Forever Young
by andthestorytellerssay
Summary: After a kind stranger named Kurt offers Blaine a ride home, Blaine falls quickly for his graceful charm. This is a story about falling in love with someone who isn't quite what they seem to be. [Vampire!AU] (human!Blaine/vampire!Kurt)
1. Part One

**There aren't really any warnings for this story. It is a vampire!AU, so there will be blood drinking, and there are some dark and sad themes to this, but such is the nature of immortality. This first chapter doesn't really have anything to warn for, but as the story goes on, things will come up. I won't be putting a warnings list at the top of each chapter, so if any of that squicks you, run while you still can. This is looking like it's going to be about 4 parts long, so without further ado, here we go...**

* * *

**Part One**

* * *

It's late, and Blaine was supposed to be home an hour ago. Next time his father tells him to check the tire pressure, he might just listen, because he's pretty sure that this lesson-being stranded on a dark road at midnight with a flat tire and no help in sight-is one he'll only need to learn once. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs because things couldn't possibly get any worse.

It starts to rain.

He wants to cry. The weight of the entire week comes crashing down on him and once and he just wants to cry, because, honestly, how much can one person be expected to take. Tonight was supposed to be his night to forget about the stresses of having to pack up and move across town on a week's notice, to forget about the fact that he was the one who got the call from the police who found his grandfather dead after a concerned neighbor called to report inactivity around his house. His night to forget that everything in the world seems to be pressing down on him and that there's not a damn thing he can do to fight it.

One night. He just wanted one night without college applications or grieving. All he'd asked for was _one night_ in which he could do something for himself without someone breathing down his neck. Well, he supposes as he laughs once without humor, no one's breathing down his neck now. He kicks at the flat tire petulantly before looking up.

Through the driving rain, he's just able to make out the sight of a large SUV pulling off to the side of the road, the headlights reflecting off the rain as Blaine shields his eyes to get a better look. The door opens and a boy who can't be much older than himself steps out, holding an umbrella and rushing over.

"Hey, what are you doing out on a night like this?" he asks quickly, holding out his arm to let Blaine under the protection of the umbrella. He seems to falter back a step when he walks in front of the headlights. His eyes are trained on Blaine's face and his expression is unreadable, but Blaine answers quickly, grateful for the stranger's presence.

"My car," Blaine points out lamely. "I've got a flat tire."

"Is someone coming for you?" the stranger asks, his expression now back to the concerned mask it was when he stepped out of his car.

Blaine shakes his head. "No, my parents were expecting me home an hour ago. My phone died."

"Get in." The stranger gestures toward his car. "I'll take you home."

"Thank you..." Blaine prompts, holding out his hand.

The stranger smiles widely, and Blaine can just make out the way the smile makes his soft blue eyes crinkle. "Kurt Hummel," he introduces, taking Blaine's hand.

Blaine starts a little at the contact. A ripple of inexplicable, ephemeral fear raises gooseflesh on his arms. The boy's-_Kurt's_-hand is cool to the touch, but Blaine just writes it off as a product of the cool summer rain. He just wants to get out of the weather. "Blaine Anderson."

It's warm and dry inside the car when Blaine climbs in, and Kurt busies himself with pointing the vents toward Blaine as he turns the heat to its highest setting to help dry Blaine out a little. "Thanks," Blaine says gratefully. Kurt nods in acknowledgment and puts the car into gear.

Blaine buckles his seatbelt and turns toward Kurt. "So, what are you doing out this way?"

"I'm in town visiting an old friend," Kurt explains conversationally, turning toward Blaine for a brief look and a friendly smile.

"It's a little late to be dropping by for a visit, isn't it?"

Kurt just laughs out a short musical sound. "I like to travel at night. It's more peaceful than trying to drive with the sun in your eyes." He scrunches up his nose delicately. "Gives me a headache."

For some reason, he can't seem to take his eyes off Kurt. He finds himself almost studying the graceful planes of his pale face, the delicate curve of his lips as they form a soft smile, and the wise eyes that speak to more knowledge than Kurt should possess at such a young age.

Kurt turns his head and smiles as he catches Blaine staring, and Blaine feels his face heat up as he looks down toward his lap. There's a quiet laugh from Kurt's side of the car even though it's impossible that he's able to see Blaine's blush in the dark confines of the car or hear the frantic thud of his heart beating double-time in his chest.

"Would you like to use my phone to call your parents and let them know you're on your way, because a kind stranger picked you up?" Kurt asks with a fond smile. Blaine just nods stupidly and takes the phone from the cup holder, typing out a quick message to his mother before setting it back where he found it. "Where am I dropping you off, anyway, Blaine?"

A shiver runs down Blaine's spine at the sound of his name falling from Kurt's lips, and it's such a peculiar reaction. He doesn't even know Kurt. Not really. "Um...North Sycamore Street. Do you know where that is?"

Kurt's brow knits as though he's confused and he flicks an unreadable glance toward Blaine before turning his eyes back toward the road. "Yes, I know where that is," he answers. His voice is distant and thoughtful, almost speculative. He casts another glance toward Blaine in contemplation. Though, what Kurt could be contemplating, Blaine's not sure.

The silence in the car turns...strange. Awkward isn't the right word, and it's not necessarily uncomfortable; it's just strange. Blaine still can't quite shake the odd, vague feeling that something is _wrong_. Though, again, he's not sure what. Kurt must sense Blaine's apprehension, because he flicks on the radio, and Katy Perry's voice drifts from the speakers. Before long, Blaine finds himself staring out the window, watching the raindrops slide down the darkly tinted glass, and humming along with the song.

"Do you sing?" Kurt's voice pulls him from his almost-trance.

"Yeah, I was in my school's glee club before I graduated last month," Blaine says quietly.

"What school?" Kurt asks, and there's a strangely knowing expression on his face.

"Dalton Academy."

Kurt laughs softly. "You were a Warbler, too, huh?"

"Lead soloist," Blaine points out, not at all trying to impress the attractive boy sitting across the car. The admission only seems to draw another laugh out of Kurt as he shakes his head gracefully. Realization dawns on Blaine. "Wait, _'too'_? Did you go to Dalton?" He's sure he would have noticed Kurt.

Kurt turns toward Blaine and gives him the softly fond smile as he shakes his head. "No, I just used to know someone who went to Dalton, and he was a Warbler." Kurt laughs quietly. "Lead soloist, in fact."

"Really?" Blaine asks, sitting up straighter. "What's his name? Maybe I know him."

There's humor playing in Kurt's eyes and his voice sounds almost amused when he answers, "It's been a few years. I'm not sure you would have been in high school yet."

"Well, maybe my brother knew him then. He graduated from Dalton, too," Blaine prompts.

Kurt just smiles and shakes his head lightly. "I don't think so, Blaine. You remind me a great deal of him, though." Kurt's tone is light, but there's something hidden deep underneath. As though there's a joke he's not privy to.

"Is that a good thing?" Blaine asks, his voice light.

"Definitely. We were very good friends."

Blaine feels vaguely empowered, so he asks, "Is that who you're in town to see?"

"Yes it is." There's a playful smile on Kurt's lips that makes something flutter in Blaine's stomach. "Now, which house is yours?"

Blaine didn't even realize that they'd turned onto his street, so lost in trying to figure out Kurt's cryptic words. He points toward the brown house on the corner. "That's the one."

This time, Blaine definitely sees shock flicker across Kurt's features, and Kurt's next words sound gauged and calculated. "That's a very nice house," he compliments. "Have you lived there long?"

"No, my family just moved in after my grandfather died a few weeks ago-" Blaine breaks off when pain flashes across Kurt's face. "Hey, are you okay, Kurt?"

Kurt turns quickly and schools his expression into something neutral. "Yes. I'm sorry. I just-I'm very sorry to hear about your grandfather, Blaine. I know what it's like to lose someone close to you, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. I'm very sorry."

The car slows to a stop at the end of Blaine's driveway and he turns toward Kurt. "Thank you, Kurt," he says, smiling gratefully. "For everything."

"Sure," Kurt says quietly, his voice hasn't quite lost the sad edge it held earlier. Blaine's just about to open the door when he's stopped by Kurt's hand on his arm. When he meets Kurt's eyes, they're thoughtful again. He doesn't have a chance to wonder why before Kurt's speaking. "Blaine, would you maybe want to go out to dinner one night?"

Blaine's heart kicks into overdrive and he nods before realizing that he should probably use words. "Sure, Kurt." Blaine feels his lips quirk up into a smile that Kurt returns. It looks genuine enough, and Blaine finds himself glad that Kurt seems a little less sad. He takes Kurt's phone and puts his number into the contacts list, handing it back to Kurt with a smile.

"I'll text you," Kurt says, his voice soft and there's a gentle smile playing on his lips. "Goodnight, Blaine."

"Goodnight, Kurt," Blaine returns, feeling more than a little dumbstruck by the fact that the most beautiful boy he's ever seen has just asked him out to dinner. He does his best to climb gracefully out of the car and shut the door. The rain has stopped and he stands at the end of his driveway and watches Kurt drive away, the black Navigator disappearing into the dark.

Maybe something good came out of tonight after all.

After a shower, Blaine falls into bed, his head spinning as he drifts to sleep to thoughts of soft blue eyes, pale skin, and a warm smile.

* * *

The next morning, Blaine is just setting to unpacking the rest of the boxes in his room when his phone rings. His heart jumps into his throat when he reads Kurt's name on the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Blaine," Kurt greets brightly. A wide smile spreads across Blaine's face. "Were your parents upset that you were so late last night?"

"No, they understood. My father took me to get my car this afternoon," Blaine explains, sitting down on his bed and shifting back against the headboard. "Did you make it to your friend's house last night?"

There's a moment's hesitation before Kurt says, "I stopped by, but he wasn't there."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sure he would have been happy to see you," Blaine offers. "Are you going to try again?"

"I don't think so. I spoke to someone and they said that he wasn't coming back, so..." Kurt's voice is just a touch sad and Blaine reels for a way to cheer him up but comes up short. Thankfully, Kurt's voice is brighter when he speaks again. "But, I'm not calling to talk about that," he dismisses, his voice brightening. "I'd like to know if you were still interested in having dinner with me."

Blaine fights the urge to fist pump the air, and his smile is so wide it's almost painful. "Of course, Kurt. When?"

"Tonight," he says simply. "If it's alright with you, I could pick you up at six."

"I'd love that," Blaine answers breathlessly, feeling very much wooed by Kurt in a way he can't even describe. "I'll see you at six, then?"

There's a smile in Kurt's voice. "I'll see you at six, then," he repeats. "Goodbye, Blaine."

"Bye," Blaine breathes, smiling widely as he disconnects the call and throws himself off his bed to start getting ready. He's only got three hours.

By the time six o'clock rolls around, Blaine is dressed and ready to go. The biggest challenge is not seeming as though he's been waiting right by the door when Kurt arrives, so he busies himself with tidying up the already tidy front room, and he nearly jumps out of his skin when the doorbell rings.

He opens the door quickly and is nearly knocked breathless by the sight in front of him. If he thought Kurt was beautiful in the dark of the car, it's nothing compared to how he looks now, the soft glow of the porch light playing on his porcelain pale skin and making his bright blue eyes sparkle. He's dressed in artfully distressed jeans and a pale gray short sleeve shirt covered by a charcoal gray waistcoat.

Before Blaine can even filter the thought, he hears himself blurt, "God, Kurt, you look amazing."

A bright smile touches Kurt's face. "You're not so bad yourself," he notes, his tone playful and soft.

Blaine returns the smile, knowing the one on his own face is almost stupidly happy before he does a final check of his pockets to make sure he's not forgetting anything. He grimaces as he pats his back pocket. "Damn, my wallet," he curses. "I thought I had it. Do you mind if I...?" He gestures in a silent question toward the stairs and Kurt motions for him to proceed, smiling fondly.

"You don't have to stand out there," Blaine adds as an afterthought. "I'm sorry. Please, come in."

Kurt watches his foot as he takes a hesitant step past the threshold before coming the rest of the way inside without hesitation.

"I'll just be a second," Blaine apologizes, turning to dart up the stairs to his bedroom to retrieve his wallet from his nightstand before dashing back down the stairs with a mumbled, "Sorry about that."

Kurt turns from where he was looking at a framed picture on the wall-Blaine and his grandfather on their last fishing trip. There's a warm smile on Kurt's face, and his hand is half-raised toward the frame. "You have his eyes," Kurt notes, closing the distance between his hand and the glass of the picture.

"That's what my father tells me." Blaine crosses the room to stand next to Kurt and admire the picture. "He showed me a picture of my grandpa when he was my age, and it's almost creepy how much we resemble each other."

"I can see that," Kurt says simply, his voice amused for a reason Blaine doesn't understand. When he looks over toward Kurt's face, he sees that Kurt is watching him with a contemplative expression. The constant warmth in his eyes is still very much present, and Blaine finds himself smiling under the adoring gaze. "There's definitely a very strong family resemblance."

Kurt laughs at his own humor, and Blaine just smiles, saying, "So I've been told."

Kurt rests a hand on the small of Blaine's back and prompts, "Are we all set to go? Did you get your wallet?"

"Yep. All ready to go." Blaine pats his pocket and smiles widely. Kurt returns the smile and guides them both through the living room, opening the door and gesturing for Blaine to go first before shutting it behind them both and leading him to the car.

There's silence for a few seconds as they get into the car. Blaine buckles his seatbelt before turning toward Kurt. "Where are we going anyway?"

Kurt smiles and there's light in his eyes as he lilts the words, "You'll see. It's a surprise."

"Can I get a hint?" Blaine plays along, his expression turning pleading in a way that makes Kurt laugh softly.

"Has anyone ever told you that you look like a puppy when you beg like that?"

"Am I a _cute _puppy?" Blaine asks brightly, fluttering his eyelashes playfully for effect, and Kurt laughs again.

"The cutest."

They drive for almost an hour, and Blaine has no idea where they're headed. Kurt is less than helpful with his constant answer of "You'll see," but it's easy to lose track of the time with Kurt, it seems. There's a steady stream of conversation ranging from music to politics. Kurt, it turns out, seems to favor the music of classic Broadway but loves Lady Gaga.

_"I saw her perform in New York, once," Kurt admitted. "It was the most amazing night of my life." He hesitated, flicking a glance to Blaine and smiling wryly. "Well, one of them, anyway." _

_Blaine flushed bright red and cast his gaze to his lap._

Apparently, according to Kurt, they are almost to wherever it is they're going, so Blaine starts looking around. It's secluded, and he thinks they're heading toward where his grandfather used to take him fishing, so he asks, "Are we going to the lake?"

"Sort of," Kurt says, turning onto a tree-lined country road that twists and winds. "I just-Well, I guess I can tell you now that we're close enough. I just thought, since it's such a pretty night, we could sit out and have a picnic under the stars, now that we're far enough away from the city that we can see them all."

And, if Blaine needed another reason to be falling for Kurt, there it is. His heart swells and he feels a surge of warmth, because he'd never imagined in his wildest dreams that someone would actually take him on a date to watch the stars. It's the single most romantic idea.

"Kurt," Blaine gushes. "That's-That's actually perfect."

He's knocked even more dumbstruck by the way Kurt smiles hugely at his reaction, and God, he's doomed. It's been two days and he's already sure he's fallen hard for Kurt Hummel.

Kurt hums softly to the music drifting from the speakers until he drives to the end of the road. It's a clearing that looks like it was once graveled and worn but now looks a bit overgrown and unused. The sight gives Blaine pause. It looks exactly like a scene from a movie. The sight is overlooking the town, the lights small and sparkling like stars from such a distance, but they're not bright enough to obscure the view of the clear night sky.

"Once upon a time, this used to be where kids would come to make out. Like a 'Lover's Lane' sort of place," Kurt says conversationally before breathing out a laugh. "It would have been back when your grandfather was young, I think."

"How do you know about it?" Blaine asks, unbuckling his seatbelt to look around better. "This doesn't really look like it's seen a lot of traffic in years."

"Word gets around, I suppose. I know a lot about the area," Kurt answers with a shrug. "In any case, it's my favorite place to come and think, and I figured you'd like it. You look like the romantic type," Kurt notes. "And it doesn't get much more romantic than this." Kurt lips quirk up into a smile as he slides gracefully out of the car and moves to the backseat to gather an armful of stuff.

Blaine steps out into the clearing and looks around, his eyes never quite able to land on one thing for very long, intent on taking in the entire picture. "God, Kurt, this place is beautiful," he breathes incredulously, startling slightly when he feels Kurt's hand-still surprisingly cool to the touch in a way that makes Blaine shudder and causes something uncomfortable to tug at his consciousness. He shrugs it off and smiles, feeling very content to let himself be dragged to where Kurt has set a blanket on the ground, a lantern burning in the middle in order to illuminate the sandwiches and Cokes laid out for each of them.

"Sorry it's not very fancy," Kurt apologizes with a grimace. "I didn't have much time to prepare."

"Kurt," Blaine reaches across the blanket to squeeze the other boy's hand. "This is perfect. I love it."

They eat in comfortable silence, both just gazing down at the twinkling lights of the city and holding hands across the blanket. When they finish, Kurt packs the plates and trash into the picnic basket and sets it aside before stretching out on the blanket on his back, peering up at the sky, and Blaine quickly does the same, sighing in contentment when he feels Kurt's fingers lace with his own and start idly sliding his thumb across the back of Blaine's hand.

Kurt points toward the sky. "Look, in the middle there, do you see that constellation that looks sort of like a scorpion? It's called Scorpius."

Blaine nods and points, "Right there?"

"Yeah, that's it. That's my favorite," Kurt explains, shifting closer to Blaine. "What about you? Do you have a favorite?"

"I like Orion. Sometimes, I like to lie in the backyard and stare up at it, even though it's cold outside," Blaine answers, his voice is soft and relaxed, and he's pretty sure he could fall asleep if he tried.

Kurt laughs softly and drags Blaine closer until he's all but resting his head on Kurt's chest. He hears the words vibrate through Kurt's body as he explains. "It's really funny you should say that, actually. The story goes that Orion, the great hunter, wanted to kill all of the animals on Earth, so Gaia sent a giant scorpion to attack him. No matter how hard Orion tried, he couldn't kill the scorpion, and eventually, the scorpion won by stinging Orion with his tail and poisoning him. So, in the sky, Scorpius and Orion are never together, because Orion won't come out until after Scorpius is gone because he's afraid of him. Which is why Scorpius comes out in July and Orion doesn't come out until November."

"How do you know all that?" Blaine asks with an incredulous laugh.

He feels Kurt shrug. "I like to learn. My dad told me that when I was a kid, and I guess it just stuck with me."

"You're amazing, Kurt." The words come out with an air of soft amazement, and Blaine feels Kurt's fingers start to card through his hair in response, so he sighs out another breath of contentment. "Tonight was perfect," he says simply.

"Yes, it was," Kurt agrees, wrapping his arm around Blaine's shoulders to pull him closer. "At the risk of sounding very forward, I really like you, Blaine."

Blaine smiles widely in response. "Well, at the risk of sounding very forward, I really like you, too, Kurt," Blaine teases playfully before lapsing into comfortable silence, the only sound to be heard is the quiet rustling of the wind through the trees and the crickets chirping in the nearby high grass.

"How old are you, Blaine?" Kurt asks, his face scrunching up slightly in thought.

"Seventeen. Why?"

"Just wondering. You seem much older than seventeen," Kurt says thoughtfully, and Blaine can only wonder where his mind has taken him now.

Kurt always seems to be lost in thought. His eyes are much wiser than his years should allow, and he carries himself with all of the grace of a silent film star. And that's when Blaine realizes what's so unique about Kurt. It's that it seems as though Kurt is a transplant from a bygone era of charm and soft spoken manners. Of grace and wit that's just not found today.

So, Blaine hears himself admit, "Yeah, so do you."

The words are met by yet another inexplicable chuckle before Kurt sits up. "We should get you home. It's getting late."

Blaine breathes out a deep sigh as he lets himself be helped to a sitting position. "I don't want to go home yet," he admits. "It's so peaceful here."

Kurt's hand falls to rest on Blaine's bare arm, sliding across his bicep and down to take his hand. "I know what you mean. It's been a long time since I've been this happy."

A slow smile touches Blaine's face and his eyes fall to where Kurt is holding his hand between them. He brings his other hand to hold Kurt's between both of his own to warm it.

"What are you doing?" Kurt asks with a quizzical smile, watching Blaine's hands covering his own.

"Your hands are cold, so I wanted to make them warm." Blaine blushes a little at the admission and his smile turns shy. "I could stop if it's weird..."

"It feels wonderful. Your hands are so warm," Kurt says affectionately. There's unreadable emotion in his eyes that Blaine is beginning to think he'll never quite understand, but Kurt's smile is warm and kind, so he takes it as a good thing. Kurt shakes his head as though in disbelief. "You are amazing. Absolutely amazing."

Blaine bites his lip and watches emotions flicker across Kurt's face before he hears Kurt whisper, "May I kiss you, Blaine?"

Blaine is slightly in shock and struck dumb by everything that is Kurt and he nods minutely before Kurt is leaning across the small gap between their laps and kissing him softly. Kurt's lips are soft and, unsurprisingly, cool as they brush gently against Blaine's, and Blaine's breath catches as his heart starts beating rabbit-quick from the surge of pure electricity that passes through him at the contact.

The kiss is over just as quickly as it began and Kurt nuzzles the tip of his nose against Blaine's before pulling away with a soft smile as his eyes flutter open, the soft blue of his irises dazzling in the dim lantern light.

"Wow," is all Blaine can think to say, and he's almost positive that he's staring at Kurt like a lovestruck puppy, but he can't find the control to act normal. Not after that. But Kurt's eyes are warm and adoring, and he can't help but get lost in them.

"Wow, indeed," Kurt returns with a soft breathy laugh, his eyes looking just a little dazed before he recovers. "So, we should probably definitely get you home now."

The drive back to Blaine's is comfortably quiet, both sitting in companionable silence only broken by their voices weaving together as they sing along with the radio, but when they get into Lima proper, Kurt's face scrunches up in thought. "You seem distracted."

It's not an accusation. It's more of a prompt, so Blaine frowns apologetically. "I had an amazing time tonight, Kurt."

Kurt laughs softly and takes Blaine's hand across the console. "And that's a reason to look sad?"

"No." Blaine breathes out a nervous laugh. "It's just...You said that you're just in town to visit your friend. You're going to have to go home soon. I'm surprised your parents let you stay after your friend wasn't home."

Kurt's shaking his head. "I've been on my own for awhile now. No parents." His eyes go distant for a moment before he shakes his head again and smiles softly. "Let's not worry about that now, alright. There's really no rush on when I have to get home, so we've got plenty of time."

They've stopped at a red light now, so Kurt smiles reassuringly. "Come here," he says, his voice soft and quiet, before leaning across the console and kissing Blaine quickly on the lips. "Let's just focus on the here and now. Because right now, I'm with the most amazing boy, and that's all that matters, okay?"

"Okay." The word is nothing more than a breath, and he's shocked that Kurt can hear it over the radio, but he seems to catch it, because he smiles widely and kisses Blaine again before turning back to the road.

It's easy to get lost in Kurt's presence. He's warm and kind and smart, and he's everything Blaine has ever dreamed of but never expected to have. It just seems as though there's so much about Kurt that he doesn't know, so he decides to start asking.

"Kurt, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, Blaine." Kurt's voice is earnest and sure. "What do you want to know?"

Blaine shifts in his seat before turning his head toward Kurt. "Are you sick or something?" Blaine asks before quickly hedging. "Not sick like _sick in the head_, but when you were holding me earlier, you were cold. It felt like you'd been out snow without a jacket." Discomfort is radiating from Kurt and Blaine immediately worries that he's crossed some sort of boundary and offended him. "I'm sorry. That was rude," Blaine apologizes miserably. "I just—"

"Don't apologize, Blaine. I said you could ask me anything, and I meant that. It's just—I don't really have a good answer for you. It's very complicated." Kurt's words are careful and calculated, his face more serious than Blaine has seen it yet, and the expression makes him look much older, more weathered.

There's only one really important thing to Blaine. "But, you're not _sick_?"

"No, I'm not sick," Kurt assures.

"Good." Blaine nods, feeling relieved. "I was just worried."

Kurt's face is still serious, but there's incredulity in his eyes. He turns his gaze on Blaine and it looks very much like he's studying Blaine before he says, "You are very peculiar, Blaine Anderson."

"Good peculiar or bad peculiar?" Blaine asks, his lips quirking up into a smile that Kurt returns.

"Definitely 'good peculiar'," Kurt decides. "It's just…I tell you that something is complicated, and you didn't push. You just wanted to make sure I was okay."

"I can handle complicated," Blaine answers with a shrug. "I just was worried that you weren't well."

They're pulling up in front of Blaine's house now, and Kurt cuts the engine, climbing out of the car to open Blaine's door and offering a hand to help Blaine to the ground. He laces their fingers together as he shuts the passenger's side door.

"Thank you for going out with me tonight, Blaine," Kurt says as he walks with Blaine toward the front porch. "I had the most amazing time with you." Blaine blushes and looks down toward his shoes. Kurt just laughs and tilts his chin up until their eyes meet. "I'd be honored if you wanted to see me again," Kurt prompts, his voice brimming with hopefulness.

Something about looking directly into Kurt's eyes tends to strike Blaine dumb, and he flounders lamely to answer. When he finally finds words, they come out in a breath. "Of course, Kurt."

Kurt's entire face lights up in a beaming smile that almost sends Blaine staggering backwards. He's sure that Kurt Hummel is the most beautiful person he's ever seen. Excitement dances in Kurt's eyes and he's softly asking, "May I—"

"Kurt, you don't have to ask," Blaine says with a soft laugh. "Just kiss me."

A bright peal of laughter comes from Kurt and he leans forward and captures Blaine's lips again. They're both smiling a little too widely to make the kiss really work, but somehow it's perfect. When Kurt pulls back, he's still smiling, and he raises a hand to stroke Blaine's cheek, an adoring smile on his lips. "You looked beautiful tonight, Blaine. I didn't say it, but I should have."

"Thank you," Blaine breathes, his eyes fluttering shut at Kurt's touch. "You too."

Kurt leans forward and kisses Blaine again, more seriously this time. It's soft and chaste, but Blaine feels his breathing speed up as he kisses back. Too soon, Kurt pulls away, smiling softly as his eyes linger on Blaine's lips before shaking his head and tearing his gaze away from Blaine's mouth. He lifts their intertwined hands to his lips and presses a kiss to the back of Blaine's hand. "Goodnight, Blaine."

"Goodnight, Kurt," Blaine returns, his voice whisper quiet and awestruck. Kurt kisses him again quickly before giving his hand a parting squeeze and turning back toward his car. "Kurt, wait."

Kurt turns back toward where Blaine stands on the porch.

"Will you text me when you get back to wherever you're staying, so that I know you made it home alright?" Blaine asks awkwardly, feeling a little bit relieved when the question makes Kurt smile.

"So worried about me." Kurt teases fondly as he shakes his head before he smiles softly and says, "Of course, I will, Blaine."

"Goodnight, Kurt," Blaine repeats with a smile. "Thank you for tonight."

"Anytime, Blaine," Kurt answers brightly. "Sleep well."

That night, Blaine dreams of sitting on the front porch in his grandfather's rocking chair. He's drinking lemonade and watching kids play in the street. The scene is familiar and different all at once. It's immediately clear that he's at his grandfather's house, but there are small differences, ones he remembers seeing in an old photo album. There's a wooden screen door he recognizes as the one that's leaning against the shed in the back yard, rotting as the wood falls apart from age. He'd watched his father replace the door about ten years ago.

The most noticeable change, and the one which piques Blaine's interest the most, are the children playing in the street. They're noisily kicking a can back and forth across the small, deserted lane. (Though that _lane_ has long since been changed into a two-way street.) There's something off about the children themselves, though, and it's not until Blaine spots a familiar someone walking down the street toward the house, that he realizes what's different.

His clothes.

Kurt looks gorgeous, not that Blaine expected otherwise, but he looks straight out of a classic movie in a pair of blue jeans, a short-sleeved white shirt, and a charcoal gray pinstripe vest, the entire outfit accentuated by a patterned red summer scarf. It is classic and stylish and so innately _Kurt._

His face lights up when he sees Blaine standing on the porch, dashing up the stairs with practiced ease and dropping down in the chair across from him. He sits quietly for a moment before he smiles sheepishly and gestures toward the flower bed. "The garden looks good. Your mother did a good job this year," he compliments a little awkwardly before he sighs and looks out toward the street. "I came over to tell you something, and I don't think you're going to be happy."

"What?" Blaine is nervous now, a sense of dread seeping in.

"Finn joined the army this morning," Kurt says.

Blaine's sure there's more to this story than Kurt coming over to tell him that his brother (_How did I know that was his brother?_) joined the army, so he prompts, "And?" Fearing the worst.

"I enlisted, too." There's a jolt and it feels like Blaine's entire world stops. He feels inexplicable tears pricking at his eyes, but Kurt's continuing. "I know I said we'd talk about it first, but I can't sit back and do nothing. Our boys are dying over there, and I'm not doing anything. And now, they bombed one of our bases in Hawaii. It's on _our_ shores now, George."

George?

There's a shift and in Blaine's place, sits the teenage version of his grandfather. He's turned toward Kurt and he opens his mouth to speak. "Kurt, your dad lost your mom. Don't make him lose you, too."

Kurt stands up and starts pacing the porch, running a hand through his hair. "I already talked to him, and he says that I should do what I think is right, and this is what I need to do."

"I don't like this, Kurt, but we've been best friends since grade school, and if you say this is what you want..." his grandfather's voice trails off and he sighs deeply before his face turns determined. "I'm not letting you go alone. If you enlist, I'm going too."

Blaine's almost positive that when he wakes up, he's going to have a headache, because the dream shifts again just as Kurt is reaching out to shake his grandfather's hand, and Blaine can feel Kurt's hand slide into his own. It's warm.

It's that realization that finally jars Blaine awake, his eyes flying open. His heart is trying to beat its way out of his chest and he's overheated under the blankets. His room is just barely light when he sits up and takes a deep breath, because what in the hell was that?

After getting up to get a drink of water, he manages to fall back asleep for a few more hours, waking up around ten to a text message from Kurt saying that he probably won't be in touch for most of the day as he has something to attend to, but he promises to call when he gets finished.

When he finally decides to actually get out of bed, there's a list of chores magneted to the fridge with the words, _"Daddy and I will be out until late. There's money on the counter for you to order something. –Mom"_

Blaine sighs deeply and takes the chore sheet from under the magnet. At least he's got something to do while he waits.

* * *

**A/N: Reviews are always appreciated. Especially with this story as I've never written anything like this. I'd love to hear what you think. :) **


	2. Part Two

**Part Two**

* * *

Cleaning, he finds, turns out to be more calming than he expected. It's easy to get lost in the steady rhythm of cleaning the bathtub or unpacking boxes, so he turns up the radio and sings along with the music as he cleans. He loses track of time and jumps out of his skin when the doorbell rings, grimacing at he realizes that he's going to have to answer the door in sweatpants and a tank top.

He tugs at the hem of his shirt to straighten it and opens the door. "Kurt," Blaine breathes, smiling as he sees the tall boy standing on the doorstep.

"Hey," Kurt answers. "You weren't answering your phone, and I just wanted to make sure everything was alright."

"Oh, yeah. I'm sorry. My phone is upstairs." Blaine gestures awkwardly toward the stairs. "I've been cleaning all day. Would you like to come in? I'm a mess, but…"

He opens the door, and Kurt ducks his head as he steps inside. "Thank you. I'm sorry to drop in like this—"

"No, I was hoping you'd come by today, but I thought you were busy. Just give me a minute to get cleaned up a little." He gestures toward the couch. "Make yourself at home. We haven't really had a chance to move things around from when my grandpa lived here, but we're working on it," Blaine admits.

"It's fine. It's a very comfortable house." There's a small smile on Kurt's face as he looks around.

"I think so. It's been in my family for generations. I pretty much grew up here. I stayed with my grandpa a lot growing up. It's strange to be here without him."

"I'd imagine," Kurt agrees before adding, "I can imagine what that feels like for you." There's a soft seriousness to the words that, once again, Blaine's sure he doesn't understand.

He leaves Kurt in the living room and heads upstairs to get dressed, pulling on the first things his hands touch and making his way back to where Kurt is waiting, seated on the couch and looking around the room. He lets himself watch for just a second before making his presence known.

There's a far away look in Kurt's eyes as he scans the room before lowering his gaze to his lap and sighing.

Before Blaine can stop himself, he hears himself ask, "What's the matter, Kurt?"

Kurt's head swivels to where Blaine is standing, clearly surprised at being caught. "Oh, nothing's the matter. I was just…thinking."

Blaine crosses the room to sit down next to Kurt and takes his hand. "About what?"

"Time, actually," Kurt admits, his voice slow and even, thoughtful. "It's just amazing how things change. Like this house, think about all the things this house has seen—You said it's been in your family for generations. How many family and friends have been through here? Christmases and birthdays. Children growing up and moving out to have families of their own. And this house has grown and changed with them."

Blaine takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "I guess I've never thought of that. That's really—Wow."

Kurt laughs softly and shakes his head. "I didn't mean to get deep on you. I just think about things like that sometimes," he admits, sounding a bit self-conscious.

"No. I love listening to you. You are the single most interesting person I've ever met."

Kurt shrugs delicately and gives a small half smile. "Well, I don't know about that," he admonishes before adding, "But thank you. I just get carried away with my thoughts sometimes."

"Oh, that reminds me!" Blaine turns toward Kurt whose expression brightens at Blaine's enthusiasm. "I had a dream about you last night."

"Do tell," Kurt encourages, smiling widely and looking very much intrigued.

"It was so weird. From what I remember, I was sitting on the porch, except it was how the house used to look in old pictures, and you came up to tell me that you were joining the army. And my grandpa was there part of the time." Blaine's face scrunches up. "He said he was going to join with you. You guys were friends or something."

A strange expression crosses Kurt's face, and his eyes widen briefly before he shakes his head and smiles. It looks a little forced. "That _is_ weird," he says, not quite able to achieve the light tone he was clearly aiming for. "Was there anything else?"

"Not that I remember," Blaine admits, his face screwing up in thought. "I remember kids playing, and you saying something about the flowers and your brother."

Shock flickers across Kurt's face. "My brother?"

"Yeah, I told you, it was weird. His name was Flint or something—"

"Finn."

Now it's Blaine's turn to be surprised. "Excuse me?"

"My brother's name is _Finn_," Kurt explains, looking almost stunned as he appraises Blaine's face. His voice is airy and Blaine recognizes when his face shifts to its familiar "deep-in-thought" expression. "Blaine, how did you know that?"

"I—I don't know," Blaine admits, feeling lost before his face screws up and he continues with, "I mean, I didn't know. It was just a dream."

Kurt nods and eyes Blaine speculatively, studying his face again. "Yeah. Just a weird dream, I guess. That's very interesting, though."

They lapse into thoughtful silence. Blaine's mind is reeling from the dream, feeling no closer to understanding it. There's quiet contemplation on Kurt's face, but there's wariness in his eyes when he glances at Blaine when he thinks Blaine isn't looking.

Blaine starts a little at the sound of Kurt's voice. "So, you said you were cleaning before I got here?"

"Yeah. My mom left me a list of chores. I'm never going to get it finished," Blaine says, pulling his thoughts back in and turning to Kurt, finding a now peaceful expression where there was once tension.

"Would you like some help?" Kurt asks with a shrug and a polite smile.

"Oh, I couldn't make you help me clean my house, Kurt," Blaine laughs. "I was about to call it a day and order something for dinner. You're welcome to stay for that so I don't have to eat alone like a crazy shut in." Kurt flashes a smile and Blaine adds, "I could put in a movie for us, too, if you wanted." His voice is hopeful, and the words are met by Kurt squeezing his hand softly.

"I would love that."

They settle for watching _The Sound of Music_ while they wait for the pizza to be delivered. Kurt wraps his arm around Blaine's shoulders and holds him close, humming the melody to _Edelweiss_ along with the movie in a way that makes something warm and bright wash over Blaine. His eyes flutter closed and he lets himself get lost in the soft, beautiful sound of Kurt's voice.

It's getting late by the time they finish eating, and Kurt picks up the box from the coffee table and takes it to the kitchen, dropping a parting kiss to the top of Blaine's curls on his way out of the room. Confusion hits Blaine all at once, and he finds himself leaning over the arm of the couch to watch Kurt walk directly to the kitchen as though he's traveled the path a hundred times. Blaine is sure that Kurt has never been outside of the living room.

He can't help but experiment with the newest strange coincidence. "Hey, Kurt," Blaine calls, waiting for an acknowledgment before finishing. "Could you bring me in a glass of water, please?"

He watches silently as Kurt moves to the sink and opens the cupboard to the left. Blaine had always found it counter-intuitive that the glasses be on the left side of the sink when everyone in the family was right handed, but he hadn't had a chance to move the dishes around the kitchen yet. Kurt hadn't even blinked before moving directly to the correct cabinet and grabbing a glass before striding gracefully back into the living room and holding out the glass with a kind smile.

"Thank you," Blaine says. His voice sounds a little confused even to him, but Kurt doesn't get a chance to mention it before Blaine's phone chimes from the end table. He picks it up, but he doesn't need to check the message to know what it says. It's the same thing it always says.

_"Blaine, something came up and daddy and I are going to be staying the night. We'll see you tomorrow, sweetheart. –Mom"_

Blaine sighs as he lowers the phone.

"What's the matter, Blaine?" Kurt's voice is concerned and Blaine feels cool fingers brush over the back of his hand. He tilts the phone so that Kurt can read the message. "Do they do that often?"

Blaine breathes out a deep sigh. "Much more often than I'd like," he admits. "Sometimes it feels more like I'm living alone. I guess I'm used to it, but I hate being alone."

There's a sadness that touches Kurt's eyes and he laces his fingers with Blaine's. "Well, you're not alone anymore. You've got me now," he says, his voice earnest. He pulls Blaine into a hug, and Blaine feels himself relax into Kurt's arms, feeling comforted and secure.

"Thank you, Kurt," he whispers. "You have no idea what that means to me." There's silence for a few moments as he just lets himself be held. "Kurt, will you—I mean, you don't have to, but—will you stay with me tonight?"

Kurt pulls back and his eyes are a little wary, thoughtful and deep before he nods. "Of course."

* * *

When Blaine makes it back into his bedroom after a shower, Kurt is already sitting on his bed wearing a pair of blue pajama bottoms and a white undershirt that's a little too tight in the shoulders. His face stretches into a bright smile when he sees Blaine come in. "No one should look that cute in pajamas," Kurt notes playfully, holding out his arms for Blaine to slide into.

Blaine pads across the room and climbs into bed beside Kurt, letting the other boy pull the blankets up around them both and shift them both until they're lying down, Blaine's head resting by Kurt's collarbone. He feels Kurt bury his nose into the wet mess of curls on the top of his head and take a breath. "Mmm, you smell amazing," he breathes contentedly.

"It's my mom's shampoo," Blaine says, a little self-conscious. "It smells like vanilla."

Kurt sighs again, a relaxed sound. "I like it."

"Thank you for staying, Kurt." Blaine's voice is soft and earnest.

"I think I'd have a harder time trying to stay away," Kurt says with a soft laugh. "Knowing you're all alone in a big house like this."

"I don't like being alone," Blaine admits, his voice small. He's not sure what it is, but he tends to accidentally bare more than he plans to with Kurt. His mind works over the idea that he's already so attached to a person he's only known for two days, but it's quickly shot down. There's something about Kurt that's not the norm, like it's okay to break out of what's sensible and just _be_ with Kurt. It's refreshing and Blaine finds himself getting lost in it.

Kurt presses a kiss to the top of his head. "You're not alone anymore, sweetheart. I'm here."

And Blaine believes it. He believes it more than he's ever believed anything. He throws his arm over Kurt's chest and hugs tight, unwilling and unable to let go. Long, cool fingers come to card through his hair and he breathes out softly. "Goodnight, Kurt."

There's another kiss to the top of his head. "Goodnight, Blaine."

* * *

When Blaine wakes up, he's disoriented. The curtains are pulled tight and there's almost no light in his room. He feels strong arms wrapped tightly around him and he relaxes into the touch, the memory of the night before coming rushing back all at once.

Kurt's voice is soft and amused when he speaks, pressing a kiss to Blaine's forehead. "Morning, sleepyhead."

"Mmm…Morning," Blaine mumbles sleepily, nuzzling closer into Kurt's side. "Why's it so dark?"

"I've got a bit of a headache," Kurt explains with a grimace. "I'm sorry. It's just happens sometimes. The sun hurts my eyes."

Blaine rubs his eyes and sits up a little. "Yeah, I think you mentioned that before." The words come out strained as Blaine stretches, much to Kurt's apparent amusement. "What?" Blaine asks self-consciously.

"You," Kurt laughs. "You're completely adorable in the morning." Blaine blushes and casts his gaze to the hem of the blanket, pulling at a stray thread shyly. He looks up when he hears Kurt ask, "Did you sleep okay?"

"I had another dream," Blaine admits, and he feels Kurt stiffen just a little beside him.

"Oh?" Kurt's voice is tense.

"It was just like the one before, except this time, you weren't there. It was just my grandpa, and he looked really sad," Blaine says softly, biting his lip. "God, I wish I knew what any of this meant. It's so weird."

Kurt kisses his temple. "I wouldn't think too hard about it, Blaine. They're just dreams."

"You're right," Blaine answers, his voice sounding distracted. "I just can't shake the feeling that they mean something, y'know?"

"Blaine," Kurt's voice is earnest and just shy of pleading now. "Promise me you won't let your imagination get carried away with this."

Something about Kurt's insistence has Blaine promising quickly. He sees the tension bleed from Kurt's posture as he leans forward and kisses Blaine softly on the lips. "I've got to get going. Did you still want to go out and get dinner tonight?"

Blaine smiles widely and nods. "I was thinking you could come over here again. I mean, I doubt my parents are going to be home by then, and we've got leftover pizza…"

Kurt beams and kisses Blaine playfully on the lips. "Blaine Anderson, I will gladly eat leftover pizza with you," he says, his voice bright and amused.

He walks Kurt to the door and kisses him goodbye, their lips sliding together easily in a feather light brush that makes Blaine's knees go weak. And then Kurt is gone.

* * *

Kurt comes over every single day that week and stays until well after sundown. With both of Blaine's parents working, it's nice to have Kurt around for company. Sometimes they watch movies, but mostly they just talk about anything and everything that comes to mind.

More nights than not, Kurt also stays over. Blaine's parents love him. He offers fashion ideas to his mother and holds his own in conversations with Blaine's father. Apparently, Kurt is "more than welcome to stay as often as he wants". (Something that made Blaine's heart swell and a small smile touch Kurt's face.)

Kurt unfailingly kisses Blaine before bed each night and holds him close until he falls asleep.

Despite doing his best not to focus on them, the dreams have gotten worse lately. They're no longer the bright summer days of sitting on the porch. They've taken on a darker tone.

It's always the same now.

_There's gunfire somewhere in the distance, but it's otherwise silent. Oppressively so. The sun's just going down and the bite in the air is becoming more pronounced as the darkness sets in. Through the twilight, it's easy to make out two familiar faces, the stars of all of Blaine's dreams so far—his grandfather and Kurt._

_They're in a small town, clearly recently bombed to rubble, walking together down a cobblestone path between a row of small houses, securing the area. A shrill cry breaks the silence. "Mein Liebling! Bitte helfen Sie mein Baby!" _

_It's a woman's cry and the words are filled with such sheer terror that Kurt straightens up before taking off toward the source of the sound at a clip, George Anderson following right on his heels. They reach the ruins of the house from which the sound came and Kurt skids to a halt at the door, looking more than a little confused. George looks as though he's just about to ask before he shouts, grabbing at Kurt's shoulder. It's a trap. _

_Inside the house, there's a woman standing in between two men, but there's no baby in sight, all three are sneering. Kurt and George don't even have a chance to run before all hell breaks loose, gunfire erupting from all sides. George is standing frozen in the doorway when Kurt shakes himself from his shock and shoves at his friend, "Come on!" _

_George staggers back a step before following Kurt. Kurt's eyes are alert and vigilant as he locks onto where the rest of their squad is retreating down the cobblestone path. Bullets are whizzing past and Kurt keeps shoving for George to move faster. _

_There's a shout of "No!" and George doesn't even have time to turn around before Kurt is throwing himself forward, knocking the other boy to the ground in his urgency. Kurt fires once and George sees a previously unseen man slump over the nearby fence, dead. _

_George quickly picks himself up and goes to extend a hand to Kurt. "Kurt, come on! We've got to get out of here!" _

_Kurt coughs wetly and George's eyes widen as he takes in the sight of Kurt curled on the ground. He drops to his knees, but Kurt is pushing at him weakly. "No. Leave me," Kurt gasps, coughing again. "Get yourself out. Go!" _

_"Kurt, I'm not—" _

_"George! Go!" Kurt tries to shout. "Please, go!" _

_He can't carry Kurt. There's no chance. They'd both be dead if he tried. "Try and get yourself behind that fence. I'll come back with a medic," George rushes, seeing for the first time the way blood is seeping through the front of Kurt's uniform. _

_"Just go," Kurt pleads weakly. _

_George reaches down and squeezes his friend's hand. "You're gonna be okay." _

_Kurt forces a weak, pathetic grimace of a smile. "Just go, please." _

_"I'll come back, Kurt, I swear. Please, just hold on." It's clear to see the pain on George's face to leave Kurt lying on the road, but he nods once and picks himself up before bolting down the road after his squad. _

Blaine wakes up with a start, feeling tears start streaming down his cheeks.

"Blaine, honey, what's the matter?" Kurt asks, rubbing his eyes. Sleep wears off quickly and when Kurt speaks again, his voice is alarmed. "Are you okay?"

Blaine hears himself babbling but can't seem to find the ability to stop. "Kurt, you were—you were shot, and—"

"Shh," Kurt urges, wrapping his arms around Blaine and pulling him closer. "I'm okay, honey. I'm fine."

"But you were bleeding so much," Blaine chokes out. His voice is sleepy and thick with emotion.

Kurt tightens his arms and kisses the top of Blaine's head. "I'm fine now, sweetheart. Just go back to sleep. Everything's fine."

He's groggy and sleep is pressing in on him from all sides. It's not even remotely near dawn yet, and his surge of half-asleep emotion has left him exhausted and barely able to keep his eyes open, but he mumbles out a thick, "Did he come back?"

Everything is taking on a distant dreamlike tone as he drifts back toward unconsciousness, but he's sure he hears Kurt whisper, "Yes, honey. He came back."

Hours later, in the light of day, he'll remember almost nothing of his nightmare.

* * *

A week later finds Blaine cuddled closely into Kurt's side as they're stretched out across Blaine's bed watching a movie, and as Blaine sees the flickering glow from the television bathe Kurt in a bluish light that makes him look almost otherworldly, he finally gets the nerve to push. They've had chaste kisses as Kurt's leaving and more lingering kisses when they're alone like this, but nothing more. Blaine takes a deep breath and turns slightly in Kurt's arms to nuzzle at his neck, kissing at the smooth, pale skin of his throat and eliciting a quiet moan from Kurt.

It escalates quickly. Soon, the movie is forgotten and Blaine is pinned to the bed as Kurt sucks at his throat, pausing to pepper kisses and soothe over the marks that are no doubt forming because of the assault on his neck. Kurt breathes in deep and the breath is shaky on the exhale as he murmurs, "God, you smell so good, Blaine. So warm." He kisses over Blaine's throat again and Blaine's fingers come to knot in Kurt's hair, because nothing has ever felt quite as amazing as Kurt's lips on his skin.

Kurt's hand comes to rest on the other side of Blaine's neck as he continues to drop kisses to the skin. Blaine is sure Kurt can feel the rapid flutter of his pulse thrumming beneath his lips. His tongue slides over the pulsing vein as though trying to taste before he presses his lips against it and sucks roughly in a way that has Blaine's hips stuttering off the mattress.

Too soon, Kurt is pulling away, his eyes squeezed shut as he sits up. "We—We need to stop now," he says plainly, his voice low and rough. Blaine feels something swoop low in his stomach at the tone and whines in disagreement to the words. Kurt just breathes out a laugh and strokes Blaine's cheek with his fingers before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his lips. Blaine chases Kurt's mouth as he pulls away eliciting another laugh.

"Just a little longer?" Blaine asks, his voice whisper quiet and rough, sitting up and leaning against Kurt's side, dropping hopeful kisses to pale column of Kurt's neck.

"No, honey." Kurt's voice is soft and warm but ringing with finality as he shifts away. He wraps Blaine in his arms to soften the sting of rejection. "I don't want to get carried away and have one of us do something we'll regret."

Blaine knows Kurt is right, but no part of his brain wants to listen to reason right now with Kurt so close. "Who says I'll regret it?"

There's warm pleading in Kurt's eyes and he leans forward to brush a soft kiss to Blaine's lips. "Blaine, honey, please. I really care about you, and I don't want to see you get hurt. I'm not sure you know what you're trying to talk your way into right now." Kurt laughs softly and Blaine feels cool lips press against the top of his hair. "There's plenty of time, sweetheart. All the time in the world."

"Okay," Blaine sighs contentedly, relaxing into Kurt's arms. He's pretty sure he loves the idea of having all the time in the world with Kurt. "Can we still cuddle?" Blaine asks. He pulls out his best puppy dog eyes and is rewarded by a wide smile and a kiss.

"Of course, sweetheart," Kurt answers as he pulls Blaine closer and eases them both down until they're stretched out together. He shifts to the side and rests his head on Blaine's chest, his flat palm resting over Blaine's heart. He hums out a contented sound. "I'm so happy right now, Blaine."

Blaine pulls Kurt closer and buries his nose into the boy's soft chestnut hair, breathing in the smell of shampoo and the almost floral scent that is so uniquely _Kurt_ that it makes something warm and happy bloom in his chest. "Can you stay the night?"

"Not tonight, honey," Kurt says regretfully. "I'll be back tomorrow, though."

"I can't hang out tomorrow. I have to go on a campus tour with my dad."

Kurt tilts his head up to meet Blaine's eyes. "Campus tour? Which campus?"

"Ohio State. I got accepted into the accounting program." Blaine's voice sounds flat even to himself, so he tries again, aiming to make himself sound excited. "My dad is taking me. He graduated from there, so he wants me to go too."

He can tell by Kurt's voice that he's not fooled. "But that's not what you want, is it?"

"It is," Blaine tries to argue. His argument is weak, and he knows it. "I'm good at math. I'll be a good accountant. It's sensible."

Kurt laughs quietly. "No offense, sweetie, but you don't strike me as someone who would settle for the _sensible_ option." He breaths another laugh and kisses Blaine's neck softly. "And I don't see you as an accountant."

"It will make my dad happy," Blaine says with a shrug, still trying to keep his voice light and engaged instead of sounding as resigned as he feels.

"But what would make _you_ happy?"

The question staggers Blaine. It's not a something he's been asked before. For his tenth birthday, his father bought him a toy adding machine. There's never really been a question about his future. Blaine just lays in silence, unable to think of a reply.

"That's what I thought," Kurt says with a knowing nod. "Life is too short to live to make other people happy, Blaine. Trust me." He nudges Blaine's ankle with his toes and his voice sounds brighter when he speaks again. "So, why don't you tell me what _you_ want to do."

It takes a bit of thought, but Blaine finally answers. "Music. I just—I love music, but my father says it's a waste of time."

"Nothing you love doing is a waste of time," Kurt says sagely. "Doing something that you hate every day for the rest of your life _is_. Like I said, life is too short. It's over so quickly, so you shouldn't waste the precious little time you have doing something you hate."

Blaine breathes out a sigh. Kurt's right, but the idea of disappointing his father is something that he isn't sure he could handle. "I just want to make my dad proud, but I don't want to be miserable."

"I'm sure that what your dad wants is for you to be happy, no matter what you're doing," Kurt offers, watching his thumb as it slides in an idle pattern across the front of Blaine's shirt. "Would accounting make you happy, Blaine?"

There's no question. "No."

Kurt tilts his head and looks at Blaine with a sad smile. "Then I think you have your answer, sweetheart."

A small smile touches Blaine's face and he lifts his head off the pillow a bit to meet Kurt's eyes. "How did you get so smart?" Blaine leans down to press a soft kiss to Kurt's lips, feeling them turn up into a smile against his own.

They lapse into thoughtful silence, Blaine's hand carding absently through Kurt's hair. Occasionally, Kurt hums contently and leans into the touch, but mostly he's just silent, his head resting on Blaine's chest close to his heart.

"Blaine?" Kurt's voice is quiet and thoughtful, and Blaine hums his acknowledgment before Kurt continues, focusing on his hand where it rests on Blaine's chest. "When you think of your future, what do you see?"

"Oh, um," Blaine answers lamely, his forehead wrinkling in thought. "I'm not sure. I know that I'm supposed to be thinking about it, but…I don't know…nothing seems right for me. I just—I think I eventually I'd like to get out of Ohio."

There's more silence and Blaine swears he can _feel_ how hard Kurt's thinking. "That's what I did. I wanted to see the world, but…it didn't quite work out the way I'd hoped."

"You've still got plenty of time, Kurt. I'd hardly write it off as a failure. You're only eighteen," Blaine assures. "God, I'd love to see the world. I want to go to Paris."

"I want all those things for you, Blaine," Kurt says, shifting them until he's the one holding Blaine against his side. "You're meant for more than this." There's something about Kurt's voice that sounds regretful.

Blaine scrunches up his face in thought. "I just realized that you never told me where you live."

"New York," Kurt answers. "The most amazing city in the world."

"Wow," Blaine breathes. "From Ohio to New York. That must have been quite a culture shock."

Kurt laughs freely, dropping a kiss to the top of Blaine's head and sighing. "Sweetie, I don't think you have any idea."

Something occurs to Blaine belatedly, and it makes warmth spread pleasantly through his chest. "So, you're giving up the glamour of New York City to spend time with _me_ in Lima?"

"It's not even a contest." He tightens his arms and leans down to kiss Blaine's lips, stroking his fingers over his cheek.

Blaine smiles widely and nuzzles into the crook of Kurt's neck, sighing contentedly. "So, where did you live when you were here? Is that where you're staying? With your family?"

Kurt is quiet for a moment and Blaine looks up just in time to see a contemplating look in wary blue eyes. "No, I'm not staying with my family. I've been staying in the hotel by the airport—"

"The airport? Kurt that's like two hours away? Wasn't there any place closer?" Blaine asks, shocked. The closest airport is in Columbus, and that's a hell of a drive to come see Blaine every day.

The wariness is back and Kurt shifts slightly. "It's best if I stay a little out of town," Kurt says, and Blaine's sure he doesn't understand the reasoning. "I'm from Lima. I grew up around here, and a lot of people knew me. And…I'm not sure how they'd react to seeing me back in town."

It's cryptic in the way that many of Kurt's answers have been. Blaine bites his lip and tries to cipher the possible meaning behind it. He finally gives up before offering, "I can see how someone like you would be hard to forget."

"Someone like me?" Kurt asks, puzzled.

Blaine smiles and stretches up to press a kiss to Kurt's jaw. "Yeah. Gorgeous, funny, and smart. I can see why you'd an impression. You've done a number on me."

Kurt laughs and tilts his head down to kiss Blaine on the lips with a playful smack. "You are amazing, Blaine. Did you know that?"

The words make Blaine light up inside. At some point, he's going to have to tell Kurt to ease up with the constant praise, because he's sure it's all going to start going to his head soon, but for now, he'll allow it. He just shrugs and smiles, feeling warm and cared for in Kurt's arms. Kurt kisses him again before sighing and sitting up.

"I've got to get going," he says regretfully. Blaine sits up and hooks his chin over Kurt's shoulder. He turns to face Blaine, taking his hand and rubbing soft circles on the backs of his knuckles. "Since we're not going to be able to see each other tomorrow, how about I take you out on Friday? I know a few places in Columbus. We can go shopping, have dinner, and go see a movie."

God, that sounds amazing, but, "Kurt, that all sounds really expensive. Columbus isn't cheap…"

"You deserve to have a little fun, Blaine." Kurt shrugs. "Besides, I like taking you places. It makes me happy to see you happy." A smile lifts the corner of Kurt's mouth, and Blaine forgets that he's supposed to be arguing. All he wants to do is lean forward and kiss Kurt's smile.

Oh yeah. Right. Kurt's already spending enough money staying in Ohio just to be with him. "You don't have to take me shopping or buy me anything." He smiles and darts a playful kiss to Kurt's lips. "I'm happy just to be with you."

Kurt nods. "Good." There's a playfully smug smile on Kurt's face as he nods again and presses a smacking kiss to Blaine's cheek. "Then you can be happy to be with me in Columbus."

Blaine shakes his head in disbelief as he smiles widely. "You are unbelievable, Kurt Hummel," he says incredulously before asking, "And there's absolutely nothing I can do to talk you out of spending an unnecessary amount of money on me when I don't need or want anything other than to just spend time with you?"

"Not a damn thing." Kurt's smile is breathtaking and there's light in his eyes that only seems to be present when he's looking at Blaine. He reaches up and strokes Blaine's cheek, his eyes far away and soft. "You are so beautiful, Blaine. I want you to have everything you've ever wanted. I want to give you the world."

The words are barely a breath, but they hit Blaine like a wrecking ball. Kurt's voice is sure in a way Blaine has never heard before. Not just from Kurt, but from anyone, and Blaine has fallen and fallen _hard_ for him. He's sure he never even had a chance. Kurt swept into his life like a storm and now he knows that all he can do is hold on.

Tears are beading in his eyes and all he can manage is a breathless, "Kurt," unable to form anything more articulate, but it doesn't matter because Kurt's arms are wrapping around him and pulling him tightly against his chest. He's clinging to Blaine as though he's afraid that he's going to disappear.

Kurt is pulling back and his eyes are full of earnest pleading. "Blaine, so much has happened in my life. I'm not sure I could even begin to explain it to you, and there have been so few things that have been certain. Everything has changed and I've just been wandering around like a lost soul, searching for something but coming up with nothing, because I had no idea what I was looking for."

Blaine swallows thickly. "W-What were you looking for?"

"You," Kurt answers in a whisper. His voice is thick with emotion and he lifts a hand to cup Blaine's cheek as Blaine stares at him, enraptured. "I was looking for _you_, Blaine, and I didn't even know it until I saw you. And there's so much I have to tell you, and there's so much that _I_ don't even understand, and I know it's been such a short time, but Blaine, I'm in love with you."

"Oh, Kurt," Blaine chokes out, wrapping his arms around Kurt's neck and kissing him, insistent and urgent. "I love you, too."

He feels Kurt relax in his arms and he breathes out a soft, relieved laugh against Blaine's lips as he kisses him deeper until Blaine's head starts to spin with it. The emotion is amazing and intoxicating, so he lets himself get wrapped up in it, tightening his arms around Kurt's neck and deepening the kiss until Kurt breaks away. He rests his forehead against Blaine's and whispers. "I really need to go, Blaine."

"'Kay," Blaine breathes out in a daze that only serves to make Kurt laugh and kiss the tip of his nose.

"Call me when you get back from visiting the college?"

Blaine nods. "Of course." He swallows and shakes his head to clear away the haze. "Text me to let me know you made it back to your hotel alright, okay?"

"Of course, sweetheart," Kurt says with a smile, leaning forward to kiss Blaine again. "Goodnight." His smile widens and there's warmth in his eyes as he whispers, "I love you."

"I love you, too," Blaine answers, beaming. He loves the way the words sound as he says them, how it feels to speak them, loves the way the statement seems to make Kurt light up and bounce on the balls of his feet before rocking forward and kissing Blaine again happily.

It's after Kurt is gone that Blaine finds himself staring up toward the ceiling with a smile still affixed to his face. He's in love, and it's amazing.

* * *

**A/N: Reviews are always appreciated! :) **


	3. Part Three

**Part Three**

* * *

It had been fine when Blaine woke up. He went downstairs and had breakfast by himself, thinking his parents were probably just asleep upstairs. He and his father didn't have to be on the road until ten, so the fact that the man wasn't downstairs at eight wasn't all that worrisome.

He went upstairs and got dressed, fully expecting that, by the time he got ready and made it back downstairs, his father would be waiting.

He wasn't.

An all-too-familiar feeling started to sink in, but he didn't want to think the worst. Maybe his parents overslept. He went back upstairs and knocked timidly on his parents' bedroom door. It was almost nine-thirty.

The knock was met with silence, and he sighed deeply and opened the door to find an empty room and a neatly made bed.

He shuts the door softly and makes his way back downstairs. Now that he's looking, he sees the note magneted to the refrigerator. His heart drops and he sighs.

It shouldn't be a surprise. He doesn't even need to read the note. His parents forgot about spending the day with him. He reaches out and takes the paper, skimming the words on the page. He laughs once without humor when he reads that his father took his mother shopping in Columbus and that he shouldn't forget to clean out the attic.

He sets the paper down on the counter and is proud of the fact that he makes it back to his room before the tears start falling.

_Forgotten_ starts to sink in, _alone_ following shortly after, and a fresh wave of sobs tears its way out of his chest. Though the idea of going to Ohio State wasn't totally unappealing in itself, it isn't even that Blaine had been excited about touring the campus with his father.

Since he came out, the relationship with his father had been a little awkward. It's as though his father didn't have anything to say to him anymore. He'd gone along with his father's plan to rebuild a car just so they'd have something to talk about for more than two minutes at a time, but when they finished, things went back to the way they had been before. Quiet and bordering on strained.

Today meant a lot to Blaine. He would have been able to ask his father questions and maybe they'd talk. It was wishful thinking, and Blaine knows that it shouldn't hurt this badly. It's not as though it's anything new. He can count on one hand the number of times his father came through on their plans, but for some reason, it hits him hard today.

He curls up in his bed and lets misery take him.

It's only about an hour before his phone chimes from his nightstand.

**From Kurt Hummel: **_I hope you're having fun with your dad, sweetheart. You'll have to tell me all about it when you get home._

He sends Kurt a message and lets the phone fall beside him before he cries himself to sleep.

—

Cool fingers are sliding through his hair. "Blaine, honey?"

It's Kurt's voice and Blaine's eyes flutter open to meet concerned blue eyes. "Kurt?" he asks, groggy and sluggish, his voice rough from his tears.

"Yeah, sweetheart, it's me." Kurt slides under the covers beside Blaine and pulls him against his chest. Blaine goes willingly and shifts in close. Kurt leans down to kiss his hair. "What happened?"

"My dad," Blaine whispers miserably, hiccupping around a sob. "He—Kurt, he forgot about me."

His voice cracks miserably and Kurt cradles his head against his chest as he shushes against his hair. "Oh, Blaine, I'm so sorry," he breathes, dropping a kiss to the top of Blaine's head. "You don't deserve this."

"I just thought that maybe he'd remember. That this time would be different, and we could go do _one thing_, but I guess not." Anger is replacing the sadness and Blaine feels heat building as he continues, gaining steam. "I'm doing this for him, and he doesn't even care enough to remember. If this had been for Cooper, my dad would have woken him up at the crack of dawn and they'd have spent the entire day together."

He's bitter and hurt, and he knows he should stop and take a deep breath, but he's not ready to let it go yet. "I do everything to try and make him proud of me. I make straight A's, I joined the polo team, and I applied to the accounting program at OSU, but it's apparently not enough." Blaine's voice has turned sad again, his anger leaving just as quickly as it came and he swallows thickly and shakes his head before saying in a whisper, "But, I'm never going to be what he wants. Do you know what that's like? Do you know what it's like to always have to try and pretend to be something you're not?"

"Yes," Kurt says simply. "I do."

There's a beat of silence in which Kurt pulls Blaine closer and threads his fingers through his curls. "Blaine, I grew up in a very…_traditional_ community. I had to hide who I was, because I was so afraid of what would happen. I'd hear stories about people getting beaten or worse, and I was terrified, so I kept it to myself. I was miserable, just like you are, so I finally decided to do something to change it. I went to my best friend's house and told him that I was gay. I was sure our friendship was going to be over, but he accepted me for who I am even when no one else did. Eventually, I came out to my family, and my father was very understanding, but my brother took some convincing. I guess, what I'm trying to say is that, if you're unhappy about pretending to be someone you're not, then stop pretending. No matter what happens, or who thinks what about you, the person you need to be honest with is yourself."

Kurt shifts until he's sitting and pulls Blaine up to look into his eyes. "Blaine, if you never listen to another word I say, please listen to this. You will never be happy if you aren't true to yourself. I know you're worried about disappointing your father, but honey, he's disappointed you by ever making you think that you need to change who you are in order to make him happy. That's not what love is."

"And…you were happy like that? Even knowing that people hated you?" Blaine asks, sniffling.

"I'd rather have them hate me for who I really am than hate _myself_ for acting like someone I'm not," Kurt answers with a slight shrug. "It's not easy, but it's something you need to learn. Not everyone is going to approve of you, Blaine, and some people's disapproval is going to hurt more than others', but at the end of the day what matters is that you were honest with yourself and you can go to bed with a clear conscience." Kurt kisses his softly on the lips. "And I'll always be here for you. No matter what."

Blaine manages a small smile before burying his face into the side of Kurt's neck. "I love you so much, Kurt," he says in a soft breath. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Kurt rests his hand on Blaine's cheek and leans away, tilting his head until he meets Blaine's eyes. "Luckily, you never have to find out as I plan to be around for a very long time." There's an almost wry smile on his lips, and Blaine can't help but smile in return. Kurt pushes forward and kisses him on the lips, sliding his thumb comfortingly across the apple of Blaine's cheek until Blaine feels himself relaxing into the touch.

When Kurt pulls away, his eyes are warm and adoring as he takes in Blaine's love drunk expression. "You are the most beautiful person I've ever met in my entire life."

"You are," Blaine argues, dazed and breathless. He leans forward and rests his head on Kurt's shoulder. Kurt takes the hint and wraps his arms around Blaine, holding him in a close, intimate embrace. Kurt just holds him in silence for a few minutes, pressing occasional kisses to his head and sliding his hand across Blaine's back in the peace of the moment, but finally Kurt pulls out of the embrace, pushing away until he's holding Blaine at arm's length.

"Well, since you're plans fell through for today, why don't we go out and do something. Take your mind off things," Kurt suggests, smoothing an errant curl back into place before kissing him softly on the lips. "I haven't been to the mall here in awhile."

Blaine nods and a small smile touches his face. Kurt stands up and takes Blaine's hand to pull him off the bed and into a hug. "I know it's bad now, sweetie, but it gets better. I promise." Kurt tilts his head to kiss Blaine quickly on the lips. "You can get through this."

"Thank you, Kurt," Blaine says gratefully.

"Don't mention it." Kurt's voice is bright and hopeful. "Now, let's go. Get you out of this house."

Blaine smiles and lets himself be pulled out the door.

—

The mall on a Friday afternoon is crowded, but the hectic buzz of people is a welcome change from the solitude of Blaine's thoughts. He finds himself brightening up and forgetting as Kurt drags him from store to store, chattering endlessly about the clothes. They've barely been there an hour and Kurt has bags hanging from both arms filled with clothes for himself and Blaine.

_(Trying to convince Kurt Hummel not to spend money on clothes for Blaine had been an exercise in futility. Each attempt had been met by a fondly patronizing eye roll and a kiss on the forehead before the item would be draped over Kurt's arm to be purchased until finally, Blaine just gave up. It was like trying to control the weather.) _

Kurt steers them toward a wooden bench and drops down to rifle through one of the bags for god knows what. They're close enough to the food court that the smell is drifting over and it makes Blaine's stomach rumble quietly.

"Hungry, sweetheart?" Kurt asks and Blaine is sure his stomach wasn't that loud, especially not loud enough to be heard over the noise of the mall, but he nods. "Alright." Kurt is smiling brightly as he takes Blaine's hand. "What are you in the mood for?"

They can't agree on what they want, so ultimately Kurt ends up getting Pizza Hut while Blaine settles for a chef's salad from some place whose sign was written in a font too fancy for him to make out the name of.

He takes chews his salad as he watches Kurt take a bite of the single greasiest slice of pizza he's ever seen.

"How can you stand to eat something like that?" Blaine asks with a quiet laugh.

"What? It's amazing," Kurt answers with his mouth full.

Blaine just shakes his head and laughs. "If you keep eating crap like that, you're not going to live to see thirty."

Kurt laughs loudly, covering his mouth to hide the fit of giggles that follows until he can manage a breathless, "I'm not really worried about it," before laughing again.

They fall back into comfortable quiet as they finish eating. Kurt takes their trash up, but when he's gone for too long, Blaine looks around to find him returning with a cup and two straws. He raises his eyebrows quizzically. "What's that?"

"I got us a milkshake," Kurt answers with a proud smile. He hands Blaine one of the straws and he sets to work ridding it of the paper as he listens to Kurt. "I thought we might share it." Blaine can't help the quiet awed laugh that escapes him and Kurt smacks his shoulder. "Shut up, I'm being cute."

"You're always cute." Blaine smiles widely and shifts his chair closer to Kurt's, taking his hand over the table as Kurt pops the lid off the milkshake and drops his straw inside. "Just when I thought you couldn't possibly get more romantic," Blaine laughs softly as he watches Kurt watching _him_ with a gentle, adoring expression.

They drink in silence for a few moments before Blaine grins and squeezes Kurt's hand. "You do realize that we look like we belong in some 1950's soda shop, right?" Blaine's lips quirk up into a teasing smile as he takes a drink before fluttering his eyelashes playfully and propping his elbow on the table and leaning against his hand, grinning at Kurt as he asks, "So, stud, what time is the sock hop?"

Kurt chuckles and slides his thumb over Blaine's knuckles. "Sorry to disappoint, but, as much as I'd love to see how you'd look with a little grease in your hair, I don't think there's a sock hop tonight," Kurt laughs before adding, "But I'm sure cleaning out the attic of your grandfather's house will be just as much fun."

"Oh, I'm sure," Blaine laughs goofily before he sighs. "We should get going, huh?"

"Probably," Kurt answers, his lips twitching down slightly.

It's a short walk to the parking garage and Blaine chatters the whole way about how he led the Warblers to win Nationals his senior year as Kurt loads the bags into the back of his SUV. He stops when he sees Kurt tense beside him. "What's the matter?"

Kurt doesn't answer. He just shifts slightly until he's positioned himself protectively in front of Blaine and it's not until Blaine looks around that he spots three guys walking toward them. He swears he can hear Kurt growl quietly as one of the men starts to speak.

"You know, there are people who bring their kids here, and I'm sure none of them want to see the little display you boys put on in the food court," a burly blond says, his voice thick with menace as he's flanked by his two friends.

Blaine fights back a whimper as he realizes all at once what the scene reminds him of. The last time he'd been in this situation, he'd ended up beaten bloody on the asphalt of the school parking lot. He wants to shove Kurt and make him run, but Kurt won't be moved. "You have no idea what you're doing right now," Kurt threatens, straightening up.

He looks far more intimidating that Blaine ever thought possible. His entire body is rigid and tensed for a fight, his eyes dead focused on the three advancing men.

"Oh, I think I do," the man who is clearly the leader says with a mean laugh. "I think my friends and I came out here to teach you boys a lesson—"

"We were just leaving," Blaine says, struggling to keep his voice even. He's not a fighter and even if he was, there is just no way he and Kurt would stand a chance against the large men. And the thought of Kurt getting hurt is just too much. He's not willing to risk it. "We're getting in the car—"

"No, you're not," the man sneers. "You need to learn a thing or two about right and wrong today, and my buddies and I happen to be excellent teachers, sissy boy."

Kurt's entire body is trembling, and at first Blaine thinks he might be just as terrified as he is, but when Kurt speaks, the anger in his tone is almost murderous. A shiver of fear runs down Blaine's spine as he realizes that Kurt looks absolutely terrifying. Dangerous. "Don't talk to him like that."

The three men laugh, clearly uncomprehending of the vitriol in Kurt's tone. They step forward until they're almost close enough to touch. "Or what? What are you going to do?"

"You need to leave," Kurt threatens, his voice cold and sharp. "If you don't leave, you are going to get hurt. I'm giving you _one_ warning. You will not threaten my boyfriend."

The blond's face screws up in rage and he steps closer. "It's not a threat. I'm going to beat your little bitch of a boyfriend senseless while you watch me do it."

A feral snarl tears from Kurt's chest as his fist collides with the man's face with a sickening but satisfying crunch. Blood begins pouring from the blond's nose. There's no doubt about it. Kurt didn't break his nose; he crushed it. The force behind the punch must have been incredible, and the two men who were once flanking the blond are rocking back on their heels, clearly rethinking the plan.

"Unless you want me to break your jaw next, you'd better get the hell out of here," Kurt growls, and the man listens. He shoots a backward glance toward them both before shoving his friends and disappearing around the corner. Kurt spins around immediately, his rage darkened eyes now pleading and worried. "Sweetheart, are you okay?"

He's shaking on his feet and Kurt pulls him into his arms. "It's okay. They're gone. They're not going to hurt you."

"K-Kurt," Blaine breathes on a shaky exhale, clinging closer to the strength and comfort of his boyfriend's body. "Go. I—I just want to go."

"Okay, honey," Kurt assures, pulling back and framing Blaine's face with his hands. "We're going. But I just want you to know that you're absolutely safe with me. No one can hurt you when I'm there. Do you understand?"

Blaine nods, whimpering, and Kurt hugs him tighter. Kurt removes one arm from around Blaine's waist and reaches up to shut the hatch of the trunk. He pulls Blaine closer with the other arm and leads him to the passenger's side, helping him into the car.

There's tense silence for a few minutes of the drive before Blaine feels strong enough to speak. "Thank you for protecting me."

Kurt turns toward him and his eyes flash with anger. "Blaine, no one should ever talk to you like that. And the idea of him hurting you—" Kurt breaks off at the thought, his voice starting to shake dangerously. He takes a deep breath and squeezes his eyes shut before opening them again, looking decidedly more calm. "That's just not going to happen, alright."

"Still," Blaine says evenly, taking Kurt's hand across the console and forcing a small, grateful smile. "Thank you."

"I love you, Blaine," Kurt says by way of an answer and Blaine quickly returns the words.

Now that the adrenaline has passed, Blaine remembers the task that faces him upon getting home. He's been putting it off for weeks, but now cleaning out the attic is the only thing left to do. It sends an unwelcome jolt of reality through Blaine. The stuff in the attic is the last of his grandfather's things. The house has been almost completely filled with the stuff from his old house now, and the only things remaining to remind him of his grandfather are the belongings in the attic.

He remembers going through the boxes as a kid, finding old model cars and picture albums. He'd sit up there for hours just flipping through picture books and reading the letters his grandfather sent to his grandma during the war. It was like a history lesson. He'd pull an item out of a box and show it to his grandfather. A nostalgic smile would always cross the old man's face and he'd tell the story behind the object.

To Blaine, cleaning out the treasures in the attic, most worthless aside from their sentimental value but still well-loved treasures, seems harder in a way than losing the man who once owned them.

"You're quiet," Kurt says gently, squeezing Blaine's hand and pulling him from his thoughts. "Want to tell me what you're thinking?"

Blaine bites his lip and nods. "I—I think I'd like to go to the cemetery. I haven't been since the funeral, and I just—I think I need the closure before we do this."

There's solemn understanding in Kurt's eyes and he squeezes Blaine's hand again. "Let's go then."

—

It's a short drive from where they are to the cemetery, and Kurt holds his hand the entire way. When they stop Kurt pushes his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose and climbs out of the car to open Blaine's door, lacing their fingers together as they walk toward the clearly marked gravestone.

Blaine leans down to sweep away the cut grass from the stone and steps back, reaching back to take Kurt's hand idly. Kurt, for his part, says nothing. When Blaine looks back to see his face, he finds that there's quiet contemplation on his features and pain in his eyes. He catches Blaine looking and huffs out a breath. "It never gets easier, does it?"

"No. I miss him so much. I feel like I didn't even get to say goodbye," Blaine replies, his voice flat and sad. Kurt wraps an arm around his waist, pulling him closer and kissing his temple. Blaine glances up and catches sight of a gravemarker in the distance. He raises his arm and points. "Kurt, look." Kurt looks up and something akin to panic flutters across his face. Blaine presses on anyway. "There are some Hummels over there."

He tugs on Kurt's hand but Kurt is frozen for a second before he follows, hurrying up until he's a few steps ahead of Blaine. He starts speaking quickly as he approaches the gravestones and he gestures awkwardly. "Yeah. Those are my grandparents." Kurt's eyes flash down to a stone that's set into the ground and he lowers himself down onto it until he's sitting across the face, obscuring the name etched there.

Blaine steps forward and peers down at the adjacent two headstones that look weathered and antiquated. "Burt and Carole Hummel." Kurt nods and watches Blaine's face anxiously. "Your grandfather was fairly young when he died," Blaine notes. The stone reads that the man was born in 1900 and he died in 1956.

"Heart attack," Kurt supplies. His eyes grow distant and he casts his gaze to the dirt.

There's a third stone that's set slightly behind the man's headstone and Blaine approaches it. "Elizabeth Anne Hummel. Born April 10th, 1900. Died November 23rd 1933," Blaine reads. Pain shoots across Kurt's face again. "Who was this?"

For a moment, it looks as though Kurt has no idea what to say, and Blaine wishes he could understand the peculiar reactions Kurt keeps having today. He wants to ask if maybe Kurt just wants to go home and relax, because he looks tense and nervous, and Blaine's not sure he realizes how inexplicably taxing this is on Kurt.

Slowly, though, Kurt rallies. "Oh, um, that was my grandfather's first wife. She got very sick. The doctor's couldn't find what was wrong with her and she passed away. It was Pneumonia, they think, now."

"Couldn't they just give her Penicillin?" Blaine asks.

Kurt shakes his head. "No. Penicillin didn't start getting used to treat people until the early forties." He lets out a deep breath. "It would have saved her life. She went in to the doctor as soon as she started feeling the symptoms. It was so early that a round of antibiotics would have stopped everything."

Something tugs at Blaine's consciousness at the story and he finds himself inexplicably remembering the dream he'd had after his first date with Kurt. It's his grandfather's words to Kurt after he'd enlisted:

_"…your dad lost your mom. Don't make him lose you, too."_

Blaine shakes it off, because it's disjointed and doesn't seem to make any logical sense that he's remembering it now. In any case, he's pulled from his thoughts by Kurt continuing.

"But," Kurt says, his tone brightening a bit. "He married Carole and they were very happy."

"That's good," Blaine says, kneeling down in front of Kurt and kissing his forehead. "I love how compassionate you are about family members you never even got to meet. You remember all of their stories."

Kurt forces a small smile. "Well, what do any of us really have in the end except our stories?" he asks quietly.

And Blaine doesn't have an answer. He's not even sure if it was really a question. He just reaches down and strokes fingers along Kurt's cheek, pleased to find that his skin seems to be warmed by the sun.

Kurt looks up at him and his lips turn up into a small, sad smile. "May I have a minute, please?"

"Of course, sweetheart." Blaine smiles and kisses his lips quickly before turning. "I'll wait in the car."

Blaine watches as Kurt unfolds his legs and pushes himself to his feet, peering down at the headstone he'd been sitting on. There's a strange expression on his face as he kicks lightly at the edge of the marker with the toe of his shoe, as though pushing back grass threatening to overtake it. He steps over that stone to go stand at the one Blaine remembers as Elizabeth's.

Kurt speaking as he leans down and brushes grass off of the headstone and his fingers linger over the face of the marker for an immeasurable moment before he brings his hand to his lips and presses it against the name on the stone.

He treats the stone with such reverence that Blaine thinks for just a second that it seems as though it's someone Kurt genuinely loved and grieved the loss of. He does the same for Burt and Carole's stones, and he's just straightening back up from brushing grass from the face of Burt's stone when Blaine hears a voice call out toward Kurt.

Though Blaine can't make out what the voice says from where he's sitting, sheer and absolute panic flashes across Kurt's face before he turns around.

And Blaine can see the man now. He looks as though he was probably once very tall and muscular, but now he's hunched over and slightly frail in his old age. He looks as though he's at least in his eighties, Blaine notes. He thinks sadly about how this man might have actually known some of the people Kurt had been talking about, because he is warily approaching where Kurt stands.

Kurt, for his part, is absolutely frozen, looking torn between staying and bolting for the car. The man can't possibly be any threat to Kurt. Not that Blaine is entertaining the possibility that the man means harm, but in a physical confrontation, Kurt would definitely win. So, there's no real explanation that Blaine finds for Kurt's reaction.

He can see Kurt's mouth move as though he's speaking, and the approaching man freezes before faltering back a step and looking very unsteady on his feet. There's pure questioning in the man's eyes and Blaine can see his lips form the question, _"Kurt?"_

Kurt nods and the man falters back another step, his hand extended to point to the stone Kurt had been sitting on, and all at once, Blaine finds himself thinking that that spot is very important to figuring out the puzzle he's been trying to solve since the first time he'd laid eyes on Kurt Hummel.

There's an exchange between them and it looks as though Kurt is pleading. He's gesticulating and speaking quickly, but the man, for his part, just looks confused. But Kurt's explaining and the man takes a tentative step closer, so Kurt stops and gives him a sheepish, wary smile before shrugging.

Realization seems to dawn on the man all at once, and in an instant, he looks years younger. He darts forward to throw his arms around Kurt and wrench him off his feet in a hug that looks almost crushing, but the smile on Kurt's face is giving the sun a run for its money.

As soon as Kurt is back on his feet, the man rests his hands on either side of Kurt's face and stares at him bewildered before saying something that makes both of them laugh and they're embracing again. The man gestures toward where Blaine is sitting in the car, and he sees Kurt shake his head and the pleading expression is back. The man nods so Kurt calls out, "Blaine, come here. There's someone I'd like you to meet."

When the words are out, worry touches Kurt's features again as he glances down toward where he'd been sitting _(and what is it about that damn stone?)_ and motions instead for the man to follow him toward the car as Blaine climbs out.

There's a smile on Kurt's face as he laces his fingers together with Blaine's and gestures toward the man. "Blaine, this is my uncle, Finn."

Blaine smiles toward Finn, but the man can't seem to tear his eyes away from Kurt. "Kurt mentioned that he had a _brother_ named Finn, but he didn't mention an uncle," Blaine says politely. "I'm Blaine Anderson."

"It's nice to meet you, Blaine," Finn greets. "Any relation to George Anderson?"

"Yes, sir," Blaine says. "He was my grandfather. He passed away a little over a month ago."

Finn's eyes flick toward Kurt as though looking for something. "I heard about that. I'm sorry to hear it. George was a good man. Now that you mention it, there's definitely a family resemblance."

Blaine gives the man a friendly smile. "Are you here visiting family?"

"Oh, yeah," Finn jerks his thumb back toward the grave markers. "I like to come up here every once in awhile."

Blaine decides to be bold. "Yeah, Kurt told me the story about your parents getting married. Was Elizabeth or Carole your mother?"

"Carole," Finn says with a nod. "Elizabeth was my brother's mother. After she died, his father raised him on his own, but he was lonely, ya know, and my dad died right after I was born, so my mom was lonely. My brother fixed them up and they got married."

"Is that your brother who's buried on the end?" Blaine asks, and Kurt stiffens beside him, but Finn is still smiling nostalgically.

"Yeah. That's him."

"Kurt didn't tell me about him," Blaine prompts.

Finn laughs quietly. "He was interesting. He was my stepbrother, but I thought of him as my real brother. He went through hell here, but he always put aside his problems to help me with mine. He was the best friend anyone could have, even if we didn't have a lot in common."

A soft laugh comes from Kurt and Blaine turns to see a warm smile on his face. "I've heard about him," Kurt admits. "And I'm sure he appreciated all the times you stuck up for him. You were a good brother."

"So, what happened to him?" Blaine asks.

"Same thing that happened to too many kids during the war," Finn says with a resigned shrug. "He got shipped overseas to fight and he didn't come home. I miss him every day."

Blaine is almost shocked to see that there are tears beading in Kurt's eyes, and he can't fight the urge to wrap an arm around his waist and pull him close. Kurt relaxes a little against his side. "I'm sorry. It's just—" He clears his throat. "I'm no good at listening to sad stories."

"Well, it's not so sad," Finn starts. "I like to think that he's happy now."

Kurt's eyes linger on Blaine's face and he squeezes Blaine's hand as he says, "I'm sure he is."

Finn and Kurt share a private smile and Blaine feels no closer to unraveling the mystery. Instead he finds himself even more confused by Kurt's continuous inexplicable reactions.

"Will you stop by later?" Finn asks before smiling a little wryly and adding, "I feel like I have seen you in decades."

Kurt laughs freely and steps forward to pull the tall man into a hug. "It's been too long. I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you, too," Finn says, and Kurt's face lights up at the words. "I bought my mom and Burt's old place…"

There's light in Kurt's eyes and Blaine can't help but feel a spread of warmth at the pure happiness radiating off Kurt. "I'll stop by after dinner," Kurt promises. "We've got to go. I promised I'd help Blaine clean out his grandfather's attic. I'll see you later."

Finn leans forward and captures Kurt into another bone-crushing hug that has Kurt laughing against his shoulder. When he pulls back, Finn extends a hand to Blaine. "It was good to meet you, Blaine."

"You too, sir—"

He breaks off when the words cause Kurt to throw his head back and laugh loudly, an indelicate snort escaping before he has a chance to cover his mouth. "I'm sorry," he apologizes breathlessly.

Finn smiles and stage whispers, "It's okay, Blaine. He's always been a little strange. I'm glad to see he hasn't changed much."

They leave after that, Finn casting a backward glance toward Kurt before turning toward his parents' headstones. As they're pulling away, Blaine notices with absolute confusion that, when Finn looks down at his brother's headstone, a wide beaming smile spreads across his face.

* * *

**A/N: Reviews are always appreciated! :) Especially after this chapter. I'm very anxious to hear what you all think! **


	4. Part Four

**Part Four**

* * *

It's hotter than hell in the attic and Blaine has already stripped down to his undershirt in order to avoid a heat stroke. Kurt, for his part, still looks perfectly comfortable in his fitted short-sleeve button up.

"How are you not hot right now?" Blaine asks, wiping his brow as Kurt lifts another impossibly heavy box and moves it off to the side. Kurt looks up, a quizzical smile on his lips, and another curiosity occurs to Blaine. "Come here."

Kurt's grin widens and he sets down the box and walks over. Blaine sticks out his hand to touch Kurt's face. He's warm now, but he's not flushed or sweaty like Blaine feels. He must realize what Blaine is doing, because his mouth quirks up into an interested smile and he asks, "What do I feel like to you?"

"You're warm," Blaine answers happily. "Well, you are now. Usually, you feel like—not _cold_—but like you need a jacket. It's almost like you've been standing outside too long in the cold. When we share a bed, you're always nice and warm though." Blaine smiles softly and kisses Kurt's forehead.

"It's because _you're_ so warm," Kurt says, wrapping his arms around Blaine's middle.

Blaine's eyebrows knit in confusion. "So, you're like a lizard?"

Kurt breathes out a quiet laugh. "Sort of, I suppose." He shrugs. "It's very hard to explain."

"I know." Blaine nods. "Just as long as you're okay. That's what matters. You could be cold as a popsicle and I'd still love you," Blaine answers, beaming.

Kurt lights up at the words and kisses Blaine on the lips, twining his arms around the smaller boy's neck as he kisses him deeper. "You're perfect, Blaine," Kurt breathes against his lips, unwilling to pull away further. "I love you so much."

Blaine pats Kurt on the cheek and kisses him again quickly, smiling against his lips, before turning back to the box he'd been sorting through, deciding what gets donated and what just goes in the trash.

His fingers stumble across something cool and smooth and metal. "Hmm," he hums inquisitively as he pulls the thing out of the box, holding it up to the light. "I found a pocket watch," Blaine says, smiling.

It doesn't look very expensive and it looks sort of well-used, but he finds that he actually quite likes it. Kurt crosses over to stand beside him, taking the watch and turning it in his fingers. "This was your great grandfather's," he says quickly. "There's a secret catch to open it."

Kurt freezes as he pops the catch and Blaine's stares at him curiously. For the first time, Kurt stumbles over words. The words are awkward as Kurt backpedals. "I—I mean, judging by the age of it, it was probably your great grandfather's, or a male in your family. I've seen a watch like this before, so I knew about the catch—"

He breaks off when he sees Blaine staring. He clears his throat and he smiles before folding the small circle into Blaine's hand. "I'm sure, if you like it, you could take it to a jeweler and they'd polish it up for you. I think you should hold on to it though. It suits you."

"Thank you," Blaine says automatically, still a little confused by Kurt's strange behavior. He shakes his head, clearing it, and he's able to give Kurt a genuine smile. "I think I _will_ keep it. I think it would make me look distinguished."

Kurt smiles and darts a kiss to his lips. "It certainly will."

They fall back into companionable silence for a few minutes, working together comfortably.

Blaine lets the repetition of the task at hand clear his mind. He tries to force away the thought that he's going through his grandfather's things and that, by the end of the night, all traces of the man who once lived here will be gone, save for maybe a small stack of boxes tucked neatly way in the corner of the attic. He sighs and turns away from the box he was sorting through to find Kurt staring toward a garment bag hanging from a hook on a rafter.

As he gets closer, he sees that the bag is zipped open to reveal a uniform of some kind. It's a dark green jacket folded over a pair of slacks, and Blaine recognizes it from a picture of his grandfather taken right after he enlisted in the Army.

What Blaine can't figure out is why Kurt looks almost as though he's about to cry. He hooks his chin over Kurt's shoulder and wraps his arms around his waist. "Sweetheart, what's the matter?"

Kurt just shakes his head and clears his throat, turning around to face Blaine. There's a small smile on his face but it's clearly forced and barely hiding the pain in his eyes. Blaine reaches up to sweep a stray lock of hair from Kurt's forehead, receiving a small smile that falls away just as quickly as it came, and Blaine sighs. "You wouldn't tell me, even if I asked, would you?"

"I want to, Blaine." Kurt swallows thickly and shakes his head. "God, I want to tell you everything, but I just—I just can't. Not yet."

His voice is almost tortured, and Blaine longs for a way to change that. All he can think to do is lean forward and kiss him softly. "You should get out of here for a while. Weren't you going to meet up with your uncle today?"

Kurt nods and lets out a breath through his nose. "Yeah." He sounds grateful for the escape. "You wouldn't mind if I just…?"

"No, honey, you go ahead," Blaine says with a smile. Kurt's hands come to frame Blaine's face and he kisses him with enough desperation and love that it makes Blaine's knees shake. When Kurt pulls away, Blaine tugs on his hand to catch his attention. "Are you going to stay tonight?"

"Of course." Kurt smiles and leans over to kiss Blaine's cheek. "I'll be back in a little while. You're right. I just need to get out and clear my head."

With a quick kiss goodbye, Kurt is gone.

—

The boxes are all squared away and Blaine blows a stream of air up toward his forehead to dislodge a stray curl as he carries the last box over to the designated corner. His eyes land on a foot locker his grandfather used to tell him about. They'd sit up in the attic and his grandpa would have the trunk open, showing Blaine all of the things he brought home from Germany. There were pictures and journals, old knives and relics. Blaine loved to rifle through the box. There was just so much history.

He reaches inside and picks up a ratty cloth-bound journal and leans back against the wall. There's just enough light to read the words. It looks like this journal starts in the early fall of 1942. There are detailed accounts of his squad did that day and Blaine finds himself enthralled.

He flips the page, the date at the top of this one reads, October 15th, 1942. He lifts the book and a picture falls out, landing face down on the floor. He lets it lay there for a moment as he starts reading.

_"Today was the worst day so far. I feel like I've lost a part of myself, and I'm not sure I'll ever recover. All of the things I've seen here, all of the losses we've suffered, could never have prepared me for this. How can I go home and face his father, a man who has lost so much already, knowing that I am the reason he's lost his son?"_

That's the end of the entry. Just four short lines that capture an amount of pain that Blaine can't even fathom. He's sure his grandfather has never mentioned it to him before. Then again, who would want to relive the horror of someone dying.

Something ticks at the edges of Blaine's consciousness. A dream, he thinks.

_"…your dad lost your mom. Don't make him lose you too."_

It's then that Blaine remembers the picture that fell to the floor. He stands and crosses over to where it slid, and he's not sure why his hands are shaking as he reaches down to pick it up, but they are. They're trembling as though his body already knows what he's going to see before his mind figures it out.

It doesn't hit him all at once when he flips the picture over and sees the image there. It happens in slow waves of realization as he takes in everything about the picture. The paper is frayed and browning, looking every bit like it belongs in an old journal from 1942. Next, he sees the date at the bottom of the picture, October 15th, 1942. It's the same date as the entry. It's what hits him next that strikes him absolutely dumb.

The picture itself is of his grandfather standing next to a boy who is presumably his friend. The boy is smiling a crooked smile and leaning heavily against his grandfather's side. Their bright expressions stand in stark contrast to the scene. They're posing next to a very military-looking Jeep wearing standard issue GI uniforms, and Blaine realizes that he recognizes the uniform as the one he remembers seeing blood seeping through in his dream, because there's no mistaking who the second person—a pale, lean boy who is graceful even in stillness—because even after 70 years, he still looks exactly the same.

And Blaine is in shock. He freezes in place, unthinking and unmoving. His brain refuses to process any of the information he's just received. It's not possible. None of this happens. People don't have dreams of their boyfriends dying in a war with their grandfathers only to find that those dreams are actually and inexplicably true.

His mind whirls around a million unanswered questions that are indecipherable in his current state of shock.

He doesn't hear the sound of the door slam downstairs or approaching footsteps and only recognizes that he's not alone when he hears a soft voice. "Hey, sweetheart, the door was unlocked, so I just came in. I figured you were busy up here."

Blaine doesn't even turn around before he flatly asks, "Who did you come here to see?"

Kurt's voice is confused when he answers. "I came here to see you, Blaine. Who else would I be here to see?"

"No," Blaine clarifies, his voice startlingly even in a way that surprises even himself. "When you picked me up the night we met. Where were you going?"

"Blaine…" Kurt starts, his voice worried and apprehensive. "What are you—"

Blaine raises his voice and he sounds a little panicked, even to himself. "Who were you coming here to see Kurt?!"

Kurt says nothing. He looks more than a little shocked and Blaine continues on his tirade. "Don't lie to me. I'm not stupid. Something is really, really screwed up here and I don't know what it is, but I am _done_ with lies!"

"Please calm down, Blaine," Kurt pleads but Blaine isn't ready to be talked down. Not without some answers.

He shoves the picture toward Kurt. "I found this."

Kurt takes the picture and his shoulders slump. His face falls and he looks defeated, resigned. He sighs. "I told him not to keep any pictures…"

"Who? Who did you tell, Kurt? Because I am _really_ confused right now!" Blaine is still shouting, though he's not sure why. He's pretty sure if he wasn't yelling, he'd be crying and he doesn't want to break down yet.

Kurt sighs and he reaches for Blaine's hand. He flinches and his breath catches when Blaine jerks away. He sighs again. "Your grandfather, George. I told him when I came home that he needed to get rid of all the pictures he had of us. Of _me_. I told him that it would be safer if they weren't floating around."

When his words are met with stony silence, Kurt continues. "Blaine, please. I just need you to understand that I didn't want to lie to you."

"Then tell me the truth now. My grandfather, the cemetery, your Uncle Finn. Everything," Blaine orders, helpless, frustrated tears pricking at his eyes. "Kurt, please, just _stop_ lying."

He takes a deep breath and gestures for Blaine to sit down on the lid of the trunk. He begins by pleading, "I want to tell you everything, but I need to you swear to me that you will never tell anyone. It's essential that no one know."

"You know I won't," Blaine assures, his voice flat. He can see the way it makes Kurt's face crumple. "How old are you?"

Kurt takes another deep breath and lets it out through his nose. "I stopped aging at eighteen, but I was born in 1924."

Blaine flies to his feet, his hands fisting in his hair before he throws his arms up. "That doesn't happen, Kurt!" He shakes his head in confused frustration. "People don't just _stop aging_. They get old and they die. That's life." He pauses. He remembers the cemetery and a random realization hits him all at once. "Those people weren't your grandparents." It's not a question.

"No. Elizabeth was my mother. She died when I was young. Burt was my father. I didn't see him or Carole again after I died," Kurt explains. His voice sounds sad and distant.

"So, Finn…?"

"Finn is my brother," Kurt says quietly. "He, just like everyone else, thought that I died in the war. Today was the first time I've seen him since 1942."

Blaine's head is spinning. None of this can be real. It's not possible. He's shocked and his feet feel frozen to the floor. Surely he's going to wake up soon, because this has to be a dream.

"The only person I kept in touch with was your grandfather," Kurt starts slowly, sighing before continuing. "We've been best friends since we were five years old. We had the same birthday, so everyone always said we were like twins. And we were. George was my best friend. He was there for everything. He was the first person I came out to. I thought for sure that it was going to be the end of our friendship—things were different then. You think it's bad now. You have no idea what it was like then. But George hugged me and told me that I was still the same Kurt. We did everything together," Kurt muses. "Do you remember that place I took you on your first date?"

Blaine nods woodenly. It feels like years ago that he and Kurt had their first date to the spot overlooking the town.

"I used to cover for your grandfather when he'd take your grandmother there. He'd say he was staying over at my house. He was the best friend I ever had. Which is why, he was the first person aside from my dad that I told when I enlisted. There wasn't a moment's hesitation, and he enlisted with me. We were put into the same squad. We were securing the perimeter one night and we got ambushed. It was a trap and I fell for it. Your grandfather, being who he was, followed me to make sure I had cover. When the gunfire started, we took off down the road, but somebody had their sights on him, so I shoved him out of the way and shot. I killed the guy, but not before he got a shot off. Got me right in the chest."

Blaine feels himself trembling and Kurt comes to stand next to him. His voice is calm and even as he explains.

"I made him leave, because he couldn't save me. I knew it and I didn't want him there. I didn't want him to see that. It was more important that he get under cover, so I made him go, and I was left to die. Which, by all accounts, is what _should_ have happened." There's a pause in which Kurt takes a deep breath before continuing with, "But it didn't."

Blaine's sure Kurt is glossing over some vital information for this story, but he lets him go, determined to bring it up soon, but Kurt is still talking. "And after I became like this, I went back to the spot where I fell, knowing he'd be back. I dropped my tags and my jacket. There was already blood there so it just looked like I got picked over for supplies and then gotten rid of.

"Later, I watched from a distance as your grandfather found my stuff. It killed me to see how much it hurt him, and I knew that he'd feel guilty for the rest of his life that I died protecting him, so I told myself that as soon as I was strong enough to resist temptation, I'd go see him. And, I did it because I was terrified. I didn't know what had happened, really. I just wanted my best friend. It was selfish, but I had to. I needed him. It took a few years, but I finally did it. I came home and caught him when he was walking home from work. I told him what I was and what had happened. He didn't even care. He was just glad I was alive…well…as alive as I can be like this."

It feels as though there's a hand cutting off air to Blaine's lungs, tightening around his throat and causing his voice to come out high and panicked as slow realization washes over him. "K-Kurt." His voice crackles with fear. "What are you?"

Kurt turns toward Blaine and tries to take his hands again but like before, Blaine pulls them away. This time it's more of an accident borne out of fear. Kurt sighs sadly. "When I was dying, one of the less civilized of my kind came out of the forest. They linger around battle areas, because it's easy to feed and no one notices bite marks. They just chalk them up as another casualty. But this one—I don't even know his name. He was stupid. He fed me his blood so that my heart would stay beating longer because I was dying. I guess he didn't realize that feeding someone vampire blood and then killing them starts the transformation because he took off after he finished feeding and I was left to fend for myself."

Blaine recoils as though he's been electrocuted and fear pulses, sharp and intense, through his body. Before he realizes it, he's backing away slowly.

Kurt jumps up and crosses the distance between them a little too quickly. His hands fly out toward the retreating boy. "Blaine, please. Just let me explain."

It's a plea for understanding, but Blaine can't find an ounce of it anywhere. He's petrified. Images of Kurt _hunting, stalking, draining, killing_ burn in his mind. The graceful, beautiful boy in front of him is a monster. Kurt is a predator. And, if lore is to be believed, Blaine is prey.

Kurt reaches out a hand, but before he can make contact, Blaine is bolting through the door. He runs down the attic stairs and directly into his bedroom, slamming the door and throwing himself on his bed.

It takes less than ten seconds before there's a knock at the door and Kurt's voice, broken and quiet, can be heard. "Blaine, please open the door," he pleads through the wood. "I swear I'd never hurt you. I love you. Please open the door and talk to me. Please just let me explain."

Kurt sounds devastated and Blaine can hear the soft sound of a hand coming to rest against the door. He wonders briefly why Kurt doesn't just come in, because in his haste, he forgot to lock his door.

It only adds to the confusion swirling around in his head and the tears in his eyes spill over as a fit of sobs racks his body.

"I'm so sorry, Blaine." The words sound tortured in a way that makes Blaine's heart clench and long to comfort him. "I didn't want you to find out like this. Please, sweetheart, just open the door." The next words come out so soft and so broken that Blaine isn't even sure he's heard correctly, but he hears a muted thud that sounds like Kurt's head thumping against the door and the soft, pleading scrape of fingernails against the wood. "Please, Blaine. Don't be afraid of me."

Blaine pulls his knees to his chest and draws in a shuddery breath. Despite that fear coursing through his body, the pain in Kurt's voice is almost enough to make him open the door.

Almost.

"K-Kurt," Blaine chokes out through tears, his voice shaking. "Please leave. If you love me, then please leave."

He can actually hear when Kurt starts to cry. "Blaine, please. Please don't—"

"Leave, Kurt!" Blaine shouts at the door, feeling more panicked and confused with each second.

There's a beat of silence before Kurt's voice comes back, defeated and small. "Okay, Blaine."

When he hears the quiet snick of the front door closing, he lets himself break, covering his mouth to quiet the sobs tearing out as tears stream down his cheeks. He curls up in his bed and cries until he's weak before falling asleep.

As he sleeps, his phone chimes twice on his nightstand before sitting silent for the rest of the night: Two texts from Kurt.

**(10:15 PM) **_If you want to talk, I'll be at Finn's house. He lives on the corner of North Pine and East Cottage._

**(10:15 PM)** _I love you, Blaine. Please don't be afraid of me._

—

When Blaine wakes up, his entire body aches and his eyes are sore from tears. It quickly erases any hope that yesterday was just a nightmare. He's not going to wake up to Kurt's arms comforting him and soothing away the fear.

Kurt _is_ the fear.

His phone lights up from the nightstand with a pointless text from his mother, and he sees the messages from Kurt. _("I love you, Blaine. Please don't be afraid of me.")_ It was all Kurt seemed to be able to say yesterday.

And Blaine wonders if he _is_ scared. Is it _fear_ coursing through him or something else? He'd been panicked yesterday, he's sure of that, but what about now? Now that the shock has worn off, he's not sure what he feels. Kurt had lied, but he's not sure he can blame him. Lying was something that was essential for him to do in order to keep his secret.

The secret that he had revealed to Blaine. He trusted Blaine with the knowledge that he was a vampire, knowledge that he's only entrusted to two people in seventy years, his brother and his best friend.

His best friend who is now dead.

And it's in that moment that Blaine realizes what Kurt has been through in recent days. From the mall, to the cemetery, to having to clean out his best friend's attic while trying to hold back tears because he hadn't even known he was dead when he came to town. Kurt has lost his best friend, the person he gave his human life to protect. But the thing that had made him break down was the thought of Blaine being afraid of him.

His eyes drift to the bags scattered at the foot of the bed, evidence of their day together before everything had gone completely insane, and he remembers how those bags had been lying on the bed before being hastily pushed off when Blaine shoved a giggling Kurt down onto the mattress and stretched out over top of him. They'd kissed until they were both breathless, and Kurt's lips trailed down to Blaine's neck.

Blaine shudders at the memory. It would have been easy to kill him right then if he'd had a mind to, but he's still alive. Even now, Blaine had learned Kurt's secret and panicked. If Kurt was going to kill him for anything, it would have been to keep his secret. It was almost illogical that Kurt keep him alive when he could have run screaming "vampire" through the town. Kurt should have killed him.

But he didn't. He had refused to even come through an unlocked door.

Blaine swallows thickly, pushing away the last of his fear, if that's even what it is, because he realizes that Kurt doesn't want to hurt him. It's something he feels down to his bones now, though he's not sure why. Kurt won't hurt him.

—

He showers in a daze and leaves the house, but he's not sure how he got _here_. For the second day, he's back in the cemetery, but this time, he's not here to see his grandfather.

Even though he knows what he's going to see when he looks down at the headstone set into the ground—the one Kurt had been so cleverly hiding yesterday—it doesn't make it any less of a shock. There's always a difference between realistically knowing something and actually seeing it, which is why seeing the name "Kurt Hummel" etched into a weathered stone hits him like a wrecking ball.

The reality of what lies in front of him is staggering. There's a stone marking the spot where Kurt—loving, kind, funny Kurt—is supposed to be buried. It's a spot right next to his family, shaded by a tall oak tree, ideal as far as these things go, Blaine supposes. If the world was as Blaine believed it to be—believed it to have _been._ He's not sure what the hell he believes anymore—this is where Kurt should be. Where Kurt realistically should have been for the last seventy years.

But six feet under where Blaine is standing, is nothing, maybe an empty box.

His family mourned the loss of a son who never came home. Whether Kurt had actually died or not, he certainly had never been able to go home to his family. Kurt's father died thinking his only son was dead. He wonders briefly how Kurt had found out about his father's death. Had his grandfather called him? Did he find out accidentally as he had about his best friend's death.

Kurt has lost so much. Blaine's sure he couldn't even begin to fathom how it feels to know that he has to watch everyone he's ever cared about die until there's no one left—none of his family, none of his friends, just himself. It's probably the most sobering thought.

Kurt is alone. Until yesterday, he had none of his family. Kurt has been living for decades all on his own, isolated. Soon, his only living relative will be gone and Kurt will be back to being alone in the ever changing world.

The thought makes fresh tears start to fall silently down his cheeks, because he realizes that Kurt had essentially told him exactly what he just realized, but he'd been too oblivious to hear it.

_"Blaine, so much has happened in my life. I'm not sure I could even begin to explain it to you, and there have been so few things that have been certain. Everything has changed and I've just been wandering around like a lost soul, searching for something but coming up with nothing, because I had no idea what I was looking for."_ _"W-What were you looking for?"_ _"You."_

He sits down on the grass and touches his fingers to the cool stone, sliding them over the etching of Kurt's name. He's selfish and stupid. He acted impulsively and managed to hurt someone who has lost everyone he's ever cared about.

"I'm so sorry, Kurt," he apologizes toward the stone, the sound is no more than a choked whisper. "God, honey, I'm so sorry."

As he starts crying harder, apologies still falling from his lips, he's lost track of what it is he's actually apologizing for. He's sorry for hurting Kurt, sorry that he's lost so much, sorry that he has to live every day knowing that he is going to lose so much more. And Blaine can't take anymore.

He reaches into his pocket to take out his phone, staring at it in contemplation before realizing that some things just cannot be said over the phone. He's pretty sure that talking about coming to terms with the fact that the person you love is in fact an eighty-eight year old vampire is one of those things, so he tucks the phone back into his pocket and lifts himself to his feet.

With a parting glance to Kurt's headstone and a steadying breath, Blaine climbs back into his car and heads over to where he knows Kurt is waiting for him.

* * *

**A/N: Oh, the much awaited chapter. :) I'd love to hear what you guys think! **


	5. Part Five

**Part Five  
**

* * *

Blaine braces himself before lifting his fist to knock on the heavy wooden door of Finn's house. There's silence for a beat too long and it makes him wonder if maybe he's got the wrong house. He looks around himself. The street sign is right next to the house, sticking in the corner of the small yard the house sits on and it says that he's is in the right place. Though, Blaine's not sure what to believe at this point.

There's a quiet shuffling on the other side of the door that he can just make out before seeing the curtain that hangs over the window being pulled aside. The door opens slowly, but Blaine is met with a smile from the man on the other side.

"I was pretty sure you'd show up," Finn says with a grin. "I tried to tell Kurt, but he never was very good at looking on the bright side of things like this…"

Blaine's not sure what to say and his hand finds its way to the back of his neck, rubbing awkwardly. He must look as sheepish and lost as he feels because Finn is laughing again and stepping aside. "Come on in, Blaine. Kurt's asleep."

The inside of the house is paneled with rich, warm oak. It feels homey and comfortable in a way that only seems to come from old houses. He follows Finn into a similarly decorated living room and takes a seat when Finn suggests it. He folds his hands in his lap awkwardly and Finn laughs again.

"I'm not gonna bite you, kid," he says with a small chuckle, and Blaine finds himself nervously returning the laugh due to the sheer irony of his words.

"I'm sorry, sir—"

"Finn."

"Right, I'm sorry, Finn," Blaine apologizes before taking a deep breath and looking around. "So, you said your family owned this house before you did?"

Finn nods. "Yeah, we moved in here after mom and Burt got married. Lived here since about 1939, I believe."

"Wow," Blaine breathes. Because, wow. A thought occurs to Blaine and before he thinks about it, he hears himself blurt, "What was it like?" He receives a confused stare so he continues. "Losing your brother."

"One of the worst things I've ever had to live through," Finn answers solemnly. "Kurt was—Kurt was one of a kind. I knew that he was destined for bigger and better things than Lima, Ohio. He didn't belong here. He had this dream of going to New York and being on Broadway—and he damn well could have, too. I felt guilty because he enlisted 'cause I did. And when he got shot, it felt like the world had ended. He had so much life in him, so much potential." Finn shakes his head sadly. "It killed us to lose him. Then Burt had his heart attack and it was just mom and I again. He never said anything about it, but Burt was never the same after we got the letter saying Kurt was dead."

"My grandpa thought it was _his_ fault, because Kurt got shot trying to protect him," Blaine says, thoughtful.

"He was never quite the same either. He and Kurt were inseparable and losing Kurt changed him. When he came home, he started to drink for a while. His parents were worried sick, but he wouldn't talk about it. But he snapped out of it eventually. None of us could figure out why, but I guess I know now," Finn finishes with a secretive smile.

Blaine says nothing in response to Finn's words, unsure of how to continue, and they lapse into silence.

"Blaine," Finn prompts, his voice quiet. Blaine looks up to find Finn's eyes on his own. "Kurt would never hurt you. He loves you more than you know."

Blaine's answering voice is whisper quiet. "I know. I love him, too."

"The Kurt that's asleep upstairs after crying his eyes out until dawn is the same Kurt I knew in 1942. He hasn't changed a bit, and I can promise you, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you don't need to be afraid of him. I get that it's weird and there's a lot of stuff that neither of us know, but I'm not afraid and you shouldn't be either."

Finn takes a deep breath and turns until he's better facing Blaine. "I'm gonna tell you something. Growing up, Kurt had it rough. He's always been unique and, growing up in the time we did, that wasn't necessarily a good thing. He was tortured in school. I'm sure there were kids we went to school with who were gay, but they never said anything. They kept it a secret. With Kurt, there was never really the option of keeping it a secret. He's always been _exactly_ the way he is now and a lot of people had a problem with that. I'll admit that I was one of those people at first, but we worked it out. I could admit that I was wrong, but no one else seemed to realize that what _they_ were doing was wrong.

"But Kurt has always been the strongest person I've ever known. He took everything kids had to say to him and it never seemed to break him. He just kept right on being himself. And that is one of the bravest things I've ever witnessed." Finn's voice is earnest and quiet toward the end and he takes a deep breath.

"He is the most compassionate person I've ever known. One of the guys who made his life a living hell had a problem—he never told us what it was, but I have a pretty good guess—and after tormenting and threatening Kurt for years, Kurt still went out of his way to make sure that that guy was okay, because _that_ is who Kurt is. He's not some horror movie monster. Even after everything, he's still _Kurt_." Finn smiles sadly. "He's taken this whole thing in stride somehow and has managed to come out unchanged. And I would hate to have you both get hurt because of some misguided fear, because there is nothing about Kurt that you need to be afraid of."

There are tears in Blaine's eyes that threaten to fall, but he blinks them back. Finn is sitting, quiet and thoughtful, beside him and Blaine looks up from where he has his eyes cast to his lap to meet Finn's. "May I go talk to him, please?" he asks, voice rough with unshed tears. "I just—"

Finn cuts him off, smiling softly. "Upstairs. First door on your right." Blaine stands up to leave and makes it to the foot of the stairs before he hears Finn say his name. He turns to find deep concern in the man's eyes. "Please, don't hurt him."

"I love him," Blaine answers simply, because it's true. "I promise. I won't hurt him."

Finn nods sagely and Blaine turns back toward the stairs, climbing them in silence.

He wants to knock on the door, but somehow, it feels like an odd thing to do. Forwardly, he turns the doorknob and lets himself into the room. Kurt is asleep underneath a patchwork quilt, curled in on himself. He looks so young and Blaine feels a pang of sadness as he remembers that Kurt cried himself to sleep. The evidence is still there in the tightness of his face, not relaxed even in sleep. He crosses the room silently, unthinking, and sits down on the edge of the bed, unconsciously brushing a stray lock of hair from Kurt's forehead.

"Kurt," Blaine prompts softly. "Honey…"

Kurt's eyes slide open before widening as he takes in Blaine. "You're—You're here," he breathes as though incredulous that Blaine is real.

"Yeah. I'm here." Blaine takes a deep breath and brushes more hair from Kurt's forehead in a soft gesture. "I'm so sorry, Kurt. I—I didn't even think yesterday. I should have given you a chance to explain." They're silent for a moment as Kurt sits up. Blaine takes his hands and squeezes them gently. "But I'll listen now."

There are actual tears streaking tracks down Kurt's cheeks and Blaine lifts a hand to wipe them away with a small, encouraging smile. "I love you, Blaine," Kurt says in a breath, shaking his head and swallowing thickly. "I love you _so _much."

Blaine thumbs away a tear on Kurt's cheek. "I know, sweetheart. I love you, too."

And Kurt starts to talk, words pouring out as though he's saying them is actually alleviating pain. "I'm sure your biggest question is whether or not I kill people." It's not a question but Blaine nods anyway. "A long time ago, when I was new at this, I did. Once. It was my first feed and I couldn't help it. I needed it. I will hate what I did for the rest of my life, but there's nothing I can do to fix it."

"Who was he?" Blaine asks, morbid curiosity getting the better of him. "Do you know?"

"He was an officer. A German. When I woke up after my transformation, I was scared of the craving I was feeling. I have never been a violent person, and everything in my body was screaming for me to drink. So I ran. I held out for almost three days. I was starving. I felt myself getting weaker and I had resolved to see what would happen if I just starved myself. I was hoping I would die. It was better than the alternative of being a monster for as long as I lived—which even then, I was pretty sure was going to be forever.

"I ran through the woods to avoid as many people as I could, but eventually I ran out of forest to hide in. It was dark when I made it into this little town. God, what I saw there was—I don't even have words to describe it. This officer had a woman by the hair and was dragging her down the street. He was going to kill her. This rage just came over me and I ran to him and pulled him off. Even when I was weak and hungry, he was no match for me. The woman ran away and the officer turned on me and started shouting vile, hateful things, and I snapped. I killed him and fed from him.

"He was a miserable excuse for a human being, but that doesn't mean he deserved to die. I knew that I couldn't go around playing god and saving the day by killing villains, but I at least gave myself some measure of credit that I saved her life."

"You did, Kurt," Blaine cuts in, sliding his thumb over the knuckles of Kurt's hand. "You saved her life. Not that he deserved to be killed, but it was almost self-defense."

Kurt sighs deeply. "That's what I tell myself. I don't regret it, because he was going to kill her, but I knew it could never happen again. I'm not a monster, Blaine. I refuse to let that side of myself come out. The other day in the parking garage when those guys were threatening you, that was the closest I've ever come to snapping again. I felt the same rage I felt that night," Kurt explains slowly.

"If you don't kill people, how do you eat?" Blaine asks. He's surprised by how calm his voice is. It's as though he's talking about the weather.

"I'm very sneaky when I want to be," Kurt says with a sly smile. "In a big city like Columbus or New York, a few bags of blood a month are easy to steal, but when I can't do that, animals work in a pinch." Kurt's nose scrunches up in distaste.

"And that works?" Blaine inquires. It doesn't fit the whole Dracula theme he's been constructing in his head. "What about having to only drink the blood of a virgin? Is that just…" Kurt shifts anxiously and casts his eyes to their clasped hands. "What?"

Kurt looks up toward Blaine sheepishly. "Yes, animal blood and blood from a bag does _work_, but I get kind of sick afterwards. That's why I don't stay over at your house as much as I'd like. I've been feeding more so that the cravings aren't as strong, but you smell _really_ good…" Kurt's expression goes from sheepish to embarrassed. "Sorry."

"What do you mean it makes you sick?" Blaine asks, his brow furrowing in confusion. He hates to think of Kurt having to be sick on his own, which is essentially the picture he's describing.

They're silent for a moment and it seems as though Kurt is debating with himself, so Blaine adds, "Kurt, tell me."

"I'm not supposed to live off of bagged blood or animals. It gives me enough nourishment to get by, but it also makes it easier for people to tell that I'm different—in addition to making me feel awful for about twelve hours after I eat." Kurt's words are reluctant and it seems as though he wants to stop there, but Blaine encourages him to continue. "Human blood is different. If I drink human blood, I can be stronger, faster, and I can stand the sunlight better than I do now. Plus, it helps keep my body temperature closer to a human's."

Blaine's face screws up in thought. "So, where did that rumor of vampires can only drink the blood of virgins or they'll die come from?"

"I think that someone way back started that rumor because, while we don't have to have it to survive, the blood of a virgin does smell better—I've heard it tastes better, too, but I wouldn't know for sure." Kurt laughs quietly. "Think of it like this. You love vanilla ice cream. I've seen you sit down and eat two bowls of it in one sitting before." There's a small smile on Kurt's face. "Now, think about if I put chocolate syrup on it and gave it to you. You don't _need_ the chocolate syrup in order to love the ice cream, but it makes it ten times better."

"So, virgin's blood is like chocolate syrup on ice cream?" Blaine asks with a quizzical expression. "Is that why you're always smelling my neck?"

Kurt laughs and leans in to press a kiss to Blaine's lips. "No, sweetheart, I'm doing that because _you_ smell amazing. Not because you're a virgin or anything. It's just how _you_ smell. I love it."

"What do I smell like to you?" Blaine asks curiously. He's pretty sure he's beyond being freaked out by this point.

"You smell like _Blaine_." There's a soft smile on Kurt's face. "It's something warm and rich about you with that underlying touch of innocence. It's like nothing I've ever come across before. I knew you were something special to me the first time I caught your scent."

Blaine swallows thickly. "Is it—I mean—Is it hard for you to _not_ drink my blood?"

Kurt lifts a hand to rest on Blaine's cheek and shakes his head softly. "It was once, the day I realized I needed to feed more so that I wasn't as tempted, but other than that, no. I love you, Blaine. The last thing I ever want is to hurt you. And the thing is, you smell delicious, but it's easier than I ever thought to be close to you, because when I'm with you, I'm distracted by how much I just want to kiss and touch you. Feeding off of you doesn't even register in my brain."

There's something Blaine has always wondered. It's a stupid question borne out of watching one too many vampire movies, but he hears himself ask, "Would it hurt?"

The question seems to stagger Kurt for a second, but then he's shaking his head with an unreadable expression. "No. It doesn't hurt."

"How can it not hurt? There are fangs—There are fangs, right?" Kurt nods. "Then how can it not hurt if there are _fangs_ piercing through your skin?"

Kurt straightens up and looks Blaine in the eye. "Well, that's sort of a funny thing, actually. When a human gets bitten by a vampire, there's something that triggers a response in the human's brain and makes it feel—um—really good." Blaine is pretty sure that if Kurt were able to blush, his cheeks would be bright red right now.

"Oh." It's all Blaine can think to say. He wasn't expecting an answer like that. He shifts slightly in his spot and meets Kurt's eyes. "Can I see your teeth?"

"I—I'm not sure, Blaine," Kurt hedges. "I don't want to scare you—"

"You won't scare me. Please?" It's pure curiosity, but it's something he really wants to see. "Kurt, I love you, and I'll love you no matter what. You don't have to hide from me anymore."

Kurt sighs and squeezes Blaine's hands. "You're sure?" Blaine nods and Kurt leans forward to press his lips against Blaine's softly before pulling away with a wary expression. He licks his lips quickly, a nervous habit and closes his eyes as he opens his mouth.

Sure enough, where there had once been two delicately small canines, there are now slightly extended razor sharp points. They don't quite look like any of the ones Blaine has seen in movies, because they look almost proportionate to the rest of Kurt's teeth. He watches as they recede back into the smaller points of Kurt's regular teeth and Kurt opens his eyes.

"I'm not afraid of you," Blaine says with a small smile.

A beaming smile flashes across Kurt's face and he wraps Blaine up in his arms. "You don't have to be, Blaine. I'd never hurt you."

Blaine believes it completely. "Will you come home with me?"

"Of course," Kurt chirps, his voice brighter than Blaine has ever heard it.

"No, I mean, get your things from the hotel in Columbus and come stay with me for as long as you can stay here," he clarifies.

There's quiet worry on Kurt's face and he's shaking his head softly. "I don't know, Blaine. I'm not so sure that would be—"

"Kurt, if you want me to trust you, then I want you to extend me the same courtesy. No more hiding or lying. That's all over now. I'm not going to run, Kurt. I'm here for good." Blaine's voice is honest and sure, but Kurt still looks a little wary and he takes a little time before nodding his agreement.

—

"Kurt, sweetheart," Blaine's mother prompts, leaning over her plate of spaghetti toward where Kurt is beaming across the table. "You have to tell me where you got the recipe for this sauce. It's delicious!" she gushes, a wide smile on her face.

"I'll write it down tonight and give it to you. It's an old recipe my mother taught me when I was small." Kurt smiles politely toward Mrs. Anderson. "She was a fantastic cook."

"I'd say so, if this sauce is anything to go by," she adds before they all lapse into comfortable silence as she clears the table.

Blaine's father speaks next and Blaine feels Kurt's hand squeeze his under the table. "Blaine, you've barely said a word to me in two days. What's the matter?" There are so many things he wants to say, but he can't bring himself to do it. Instead he shrugs and feels Kurt's hand tighten once again in response. "I mean it, Blaine. Talk."

"Dad, do you remember what you did yesterday?" Blaine swallows thickly before continuing, willing his voice not to shake when his father explains about his trip to Columbus to take his wife shopping. "There was something else you were supposed to do yesterday, something important…" he prompts. His father just shrugs and it's all the answer and motive Blaine needs. "You were supposed to take me on the campus tour of Ohio State yesterday but you forgot about me. Just like you always do."

"That's not fair, Blaine. I forgot one thing—"

"Just like you've forgotten every other thing we've been supposed to do? Dad, you forgot my birthday this year. You and mom went to Venice on my birthday, and I didn't say anything." Kurt stiffens at his side, because Blaine hadn't told him about the birthday incident, but he presses on. "Dad, I have done every single thing I could do to make you proud, but it just seems like nothing I ever do is enough to make you remember me, so I'm done. I just can't do this anymore." His voice is even in a way he's proud of. It's much surer than he expected, so he tries to milk this wave of courage for all it's worth.

"I don't want to be an accountant, dad. I want to study music and I don't know what I want to do with the degree. I guess I'll figure it out when the time comes, but I'm sure I don't want to be an accountant. I can't live for you anymore, dad, I just can't. I need to do what makes me happy now," he says, his voice strong and confident.

His father says nothing at first, only nods once and watches Blaine appraisingly. Finally he asks, "Is that right?"

Blaine nods. "Yes, sir."

"Well then." The man stands up and sets his napkin down on the table. "I see you have your mind all made up. Best of luck to you, son." He nods once toward Kurt before leaving the room entirely, leaving Blaine to deflate and sag against Kurt's side.

"What did I just do, Kurt?"

There's a sad smile on Kurt's face and he rests his hand on Blaine's cheek. "You stood up to your father, honey. I'm so proud of you!" He kisses Blaine quickly on the lips and brushes his thumb over Blaine's cheekbone. "He'll come around. How do you feel?"

"I'm—I'm not sure," Blaine answers honestly, his voice sounds a little flat from shock.

Kurt checks his watch. "Do you have any particular curfew?" Blaine shakes his head. "Alright. Good. Let's get out of here for a little while. We can go back to where we had our first date and get away from everybody."

"That sounds perfect," Blaine breathes out.

—

For the next few days, things are amazing. Most of the days are spent in Blaine's bedroom, because Kurt finally confesses just how bad his headaches are when exposed to the sun.

_"It's like, no matter where I look, it feels as though I'm staring directly at the sun. The headaches are almost crippling," he said, rubbing his temples. "Sunglasses help to dull it, but it's still awful." _

They talk about everything now that Kurt is free to really open up. Mostly Blaine just listens as Kurt talks about his life and all the things he's seen. It amazes him to listen to Kurt recount how he went to see the Sound of Music its opening night on Broadway or when he watched the Beatles play at Shea Stadium in '65. He's halfway through listening to Kurt's account of being in Berlin the night they started tearing down the wall when he realizes that he's pretty much staring open-mouthed at Kurt as he speaks. There's light and excitement in his eyes and Blaine can't help but get lost in it.

He jumps when he hears Kurt laugh before settling back into his arms with a sheepishly mumbled, "Sorry."

Kurt laughs again and kisses him on the forehead. "Don't apologize. I think it's adorable."

Blaine flushes and nuzzles closer into Kurt's side. "You've led such an amazing life, Kurt. I can't even imagine it. All the changes you've seen and adapted to."

"It has been interesting. Sometimes, a lot less now than I used to, I regret that I got changed. I was really bitter at first, because I should have died. It seemed like a cruel joke that I couldn't get to go see my family. They had to mourn me as though I was dead and there was nothing I could do about it. But as time went on, I realized that wallowing in self-pity wasn't getting me anywhere, so I started doing things. I traveled the world and saw things I only dreamed about seeing, and I realized that, if I had died when I did, I wouldn't have gotten to see all of the amazing things I've seen. When I was your age, before I got changed, I used to lie in my bed at night and dream of the day that I might have the right to fall in love and get married. I never thought it would be anything but a dream that I kept locked away where no one else could see it. But look, states are already legalizing it.

"I've gotten to watch the world grow, Blaine, and it's been scary sometimes to see the way it's going, but there are other times that just make me so thankful that I'm here to see it. And then I met you—" He pokes a finger into the tip of Blaine's nose and smiles. "I traveled the world searching, when all I had to do was come home and there you were."

"Here I am." A bright smile crosses Blaine's face and he leans in to kiss Kurt, sighing against his lips and letting Kurt take control, letting himself be kissed until his head is spinning with it. Kurt's lips trail along Blaine's jaw and down to his neck. Blaine tips his head to allow for better access. Kurt kisses and sucks lightly over where his pulse is fluttering rabbit-quick beneath the skin and Blaine whines softly and threads his fingers into Kurt's hair.

Kurt's lips feel amazing against his neck, pressing gentle, cool kisses over the heated skin and making little contented sighs fall from Blaine's lips, but suddenly, Kurt's mouth is gone from his neck and Kurt is pushing off and rocking up to rest on his knees, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes. Blaine sits up, resting on his elbows to get a better look at where Kurt is resting over his waist.

"What's the matter, Kurt?" he asks, concerned, as he sits up and extends a hand. He lets it drop immediately when Kurt pulls back and shakes his head.

"I'm sorry," Kurt apologizes roughly. "I've got to go—"

He throws his leg over Blaine's waist and is on his feet in an instant. It hits Blaine then what's wrong and he's on his feet behind Kurt, reaching out to grab his arm before Kurt can pull away. "No, talk to me. What are you feeling?"

Kurt pulls his hands away from his eyes and his eyelids flutter open. Blaine has to fight the urge to take an automatic step back as a shudder of pure fear slides down his spine. The soft blue of Kurt's eyes is now icy and piercing in tight rings around blown pupils.

"You need to feed, don't you?" Blaine asks and Kurt hesitantly nods.

"It's been too long. I shouldn't have let it get this bad…I could have hurt you…"

Blaine takes a daring step forward and puts his hands on Kurt's shoulders. "But you didn't. Because you're much stronger than that." A small, tense smile touches Kurt's face and Blaine continues. "I want you to go and eat, but then come back here. You're not alone with this. If you're going to be sick, I'm going to take care of you." It's an order and it has Kurt shifting anxiously.

"Honey, that's not—"

"I don't care. I love you, Kurt, and I'm going to take care of you if you're sick." Blaine rests his palm on Kurt's cheek and Kurt turns his head to dart a kiss to it, making Blaine's lips twitch up into a smile. "Now go. Hurry back."

Kurt tries a wary smile and chances a darting kiss to Blaine's lips before pulling back and saying, "I love you."

Blaine wraps his arms around Kurt's body and returns the words before all but pushing him out the door.

—

When Kurt comes back an hour later, Blaine is almost asleep. Kurt changes silently into his pajamas and slides into bed beside Blaine. It's when Blaine wraps his arm around Kurt's waist that he notices the full body trembling that's seizing Kurt's body.

"Kurt," he asks, alarmed.

His body is colder than usual and shivering violently. "I—I'm fine."

The words sound almost tortured as they tear out and the trembling intensifies until Kurt's tremors are shaking Blaine's body as well. Barely visible in the dim light filtering in through the curtains are tear tracks down Kurt's cheeks and the fact that his eyes are screwed shut.

"Kurt, talk to me," Blaine orders, the words firm but soft. "I need to know what you're feeling."

"H-Hurts," Kurt chokes out. "It feels like it's burning, but it will stop soon."

"How soon?"

Silence.

"Kurt?" Blaine's voice is stern now. "How soon?"

"Probably about six or seven hours. I didn't drink much." Kurt's voice is shaking with the intensity of his pain and Blaine reels for a way to make it stop, his thoughts cut off by a barely muffled cry from Kurt. "You shouldn't be here. You shouldn't see this…"

He pulls Kurt tightly against his side. "Yes I should be. This involves me too now."

There's a pained whimper from Kurt and he unconsciously clings closer to Blaine's body.

God, is this what Kurt puts himself through in order to avoid human blood? Torturous fire burning its way through his body and barely giving him what he needs to live? He's sacrificing and suffering to avoid hurting another human being. If Kurt drank, he would be strong and able to truly live. He'd be warm and able to go out into the sunlight without crippling pain.

Another pained cry pulls him out of his thoughts and he glances down toward Kurt's face, twisted in unfathomable agony. All of this to avoid being a killer.

Suddenly, a thought occurs to Blaine. "Kurt, do you think if you drank from a human, you'd be able to stop before you killed them?"

Kurt looks up, trying to comprehend through the pain. "Y-Yeah. I mean, it would be hard, but I—" Realization dawns on Kurt's face and he's shaking his head. "No. It's not worth the risk. Absolutely not."

Blaine thrusts out his forearm. "Kurt, it will stop the pain. Please, Kurt. I can't stand to see you in pain, and if you drink a little, it will take the pain away."

There's honest pleading on Kurt's face and his eyes are glued to Blaine's wrist and he licks his lips unconsciously. "Blaine, what if I can't—"

"You can, Kurt. I trust you." Blaine strokes his fingers through Kurt's hair and holds up his wrist. "Please, Kurt."

Kurt swallows convulsively and presses a kiss to Blaine's wrist. "I love you so much, Blaine."

"I love you, too, sweetheart," Blaine says, his voice soft.

After one more kiss to the fluttering pulse of his wrist, he feels a warm exhale before an overwhelming sensation crashes over him like a tidal wave that makes his toes curl into the sheets. He can see Kurt drinking from him, making small satisfied sounds of pleasure as he does but there's no pain. All Blaine can hear over the rush of blood in his ears is his own keening moans as he twists his fingers tightly into the back of Kurt's hair as his back arches off the mattress.

His hips stutter weakly off the bed once more and he hears his own voice crying out loudly in ecstasy before his eyes roll back in his skull and everything goes black.

* * *

**A/N: Reviews are always appreciated. Especially after chapters like this. :)**


	6. Part Six

**Part Six**

* * *

When Blaine wakes up, he is alone. It's daylight now but he's not quite sure what time, groggy from falling into such a deep sleep. He feels boneless and heavy in a way that makes him want to cuddle deeper under the blankets in contentment. Well, not quite contentment, not yet. Where's Kurt?

On cue, Kurt nudges open the door with his foot and comes in carrying a tray of food and a glass of orange juice. Blaine feels almost stupidly happy and he smiles widely as he says, "Good morning, honey."

A bright smile spreads across Kurt's face as he climbs onto the bed, setting the tray in Blaine's lap and kissing him on the cheek. "Good morning. I thought you might be a little hungry, so I brought an omelet. But…" He lifts the tall glass of orange juice. "I want you to drink this now."

Blaine takes the glass, still feeling pleasantly buzzy for a reason he doesn't quite understand. He sits in silence for a minute or so as he drinks before setting the glass down and asking, "Will this turn me into a vampire?" He gestures to the two puncture marks on his wrist, and wow, he's really going to have to cover that up.

Kurt shakes his head. "No. You have to die with my blood in your system in order to start the transformation."

"Oh," Blaine answers, nodding. "Did I fall asleep right after you finished drinking last night?"

There's a quiet laugh from Kurt. "Yeah, honey, you were pretty worn out." He doesn't quite understand the reason there's such amusement in Kurt's voice so he thinks back and remembers the feeling of Kurt's mouth on his wrist and…oh.

"Was it bad?" Blaine asks. "I mean…I remember making…sounds." He feels his cheeks flush with embarrassment, but Kurt just keeps smiling.

He kisses Blaine on the lips. "No, I wouldn't say you were _bad_." He laughs quietly. "You seemed to enjoy it, and god, you taste as amazing as you smell." Kurt's voice turns dreamy and he kisses Blaine on the lips again. "But, we're going to talk about this."

"Did it help?" Blaine asks simply.

"Yes. I barely had to drink any of your blood before the pain stopped," Kurt says, his voice honest and thoughtful.

Blaine nods once. "Good. Then we know what to do next time then."

"Oh no…" Kurt's shaking his head in disagreement. "There will be no next time."

"Yes there will." Blaine sits up straight and takes Kurt's hands. "This is the perfect solution. You can drink the blood from the bag or from an animal and then you can drink a little bit of mine. My blood can be like an aspirin or something. Just drink a little to balance everything out."

It's clear that Kurt is reluctantly thinking about it. "I don't like putting you at risk like this."

"Well, you're not putting me at risk, I'm volunteering myself for risk," Blaine says, his voice a little smug.

"That makes no sense whatsoever, Blaine." There's quiet amusement in Kurt's tone and Blaine knows he's won. "You are the most selfless person I've ever met."

"You were in pain," Blaine says by way of explanation. For him, it doesn't need any more justification than that. Kurt was in pain; he had a way to make it stop. That's what was important. He lifts his hand to rest on Kurt's cheek and a smile spreads across his face. "Kurt, you're _warm_!"

"It's what human blood does," Kurt explains.

And now Blaine is curious, because Kurt looks far happier than he has. "How do you feel?"

He looks reluctant to admit it, but finally Kurt says, "I feel absolutely amazing. I went outside this morning and watched the sunrise."

"No headache?"

"No headache," Kurt affirms. "God, it was amazing."

Blaine nods again. "Then it's settled. You're happy and I'm happy that _you're _happy."

Kurt sobers and turns toward Blaine. "Blaine, this is dangerous. I'm not sure you realize just how dangerous this is. I could get carried away in a second and end up really hurting you or worse." Kurt's voice is serious. "I couldn't live with myself if I let you get hurt, even if it's from something that you wanted. I just can't."

There is honest worry and concern in Kurt's eyes, but Blaine is sure. "I trust you. I know you'll stop before you hurt me. I trust you."

Kurt looks like he wants to protest, shaking his head minutely and starting to open his mouth, but instead he pauses for a second before nodding once. "Thank you."

It's a simple statement that has Blaine thoroughly confused. "Thank you? For what?"

Kurt gives Blaine a heart-stopping crooked smile and takes the mostly empty tray of food from in front of Blaine, setting it aside and throwing a leg over to straddle Blaine's lap. He leans forward and wraps his arms around the back of Blaine's neck and tipping his head forward until his forehead is resting against Blaine's before whispering, "For everything."

He doesn't get a chance to ask what "everything" entails because Kurt is leaning in and kissing him then, lips sliding, warm, soft, and yielding against Blaine's until he forgets his own name and whines against Kurt's lips as he's pushed backward and his head is resting on the pillow.

"I think I like you like this," Blaine says with a breathless laugh.

Kurt pulls away and gives him an inquiring smile. "Like what?"

"Like _this_." He brushes a hand through Kurt's hair and delights in the genuine, untroubled smile it earns him. "Even if you hadn't told me that you felt better, I'd know. You're just so much…" He struggles to find the word. "_Happier_."

Kurt laughs and the sound brightens the room. "I'm always happy when I'm with you." Kurt's eyes are bright and sparkling a beautiful blue in the morning light filtering through the curtains. "You _make_ me happy."

Blaine beams at the admission and kisses Kurt softly on the lips. "I love you, Kurt."

"I love you too, sweetheart," Kurt answers, his voice soft and adoring. There's silence for a moment and Kurt's eyes turn thoughtful. He sits up suddenly and Blaine whines as the warm weight of Kurt's body leaves his own. Kurt's on his feet now and extending a hand toward the bed, a wide smile on his face. "Come on."

Blaine whines playfully. "But kissing…?"

Kurt rolls his eyes and his smile grows impossibly wider. "There will be plenty of time for that later." He pulls Blaine off the bed eagerly. "Now get dressed so we can go."

"Go?" Blaine inquires, his brow knitting in confusion.

But Kurt is untroubled. "Yes," he affirms, light dancing in his eyes. "I've got a surprise for you."

—

As Blaine sits on the bed, he wants to look around Kurt's bedroom. He didn't get a chance to the last time he was here, but Kurt had expressly forbidden him from looking around, so instead he asks questions as Kurt rifles through a footlocker he's pulled from the closet.

"Was this your room when you lived here?" Blaine asks, watching Kurt's back.

"Sure was. God, it's so weird that it actually still looks the same…" Kurt muses as he digs for whatever he's searching for. "I moved in here with my dad after he married Finn's mother." He looks up from the trunk and turns toward Blaine, standing up and crossing over to the nightstand next to him and pointing toward the antique lamp sitting on it. "See this crack?"

Blaine nods as he notices a very conspicuous crack in the lamp that looks like it had been hastily glued after being broken, the pieces not quite fitting back the way they should.

"When we were sixteen, George threw a baseball at me because I was teasing him about sneaking out to go up to The Point with your grandmother." Blaine grimaces at the thought of his grandparents together in the back of a car and Kurt laughs. "I ducked and the ball hit the lamp and knocked a big chunk out of it."

Kurt points to the odd fitting piece. "The lamp belonged to my grandmother or something. My dad used to tell me all these stories about how he remembered the pair of lamps sitting on either side of the couch when he was growing up—it had been an oil lamp then. He rigged it up for electricity himself. So, when George broke it, I knew my dad was going to blow a gasket, so we ran out to the garage and got a jar of glue and stuck it back together. Carole came home about halfway through and I heard her coming up the stairs. George met her in the hall and distracted her long enough for me to finish. Charmed the pants off her with that damn smile of his."

Kurt turns toward Blaine and grins. "It was the first thing I noticed about _you_. You've got the same smile." He leans down and presses a kiss to Blaine's lips before moving back over to the footlocker and going back to his search.

"Did you ever—?" Blaine stops in the middle of his question. Not quite sure how to phrase it.

Luckily, Kurt seems to understand anyway. "George and I were just friends," Kurt answers without turning, and Blaine nods.

"So you never wanted anything more?" He's not sure where the question came from, but now that it was out, he realizes that he really does want to know.

"He was my best friend, but he wasn't my type at all. I loved him like a brother, but no. Never anything more than that." Kurt must find what he's been looking for, because he punctuates his sentence with an "_ah ha_" before closing his hand around something and coming back to the bed and sitting down cross-legged in front of Blaine.

He leans forward and takes one of Blaine's hands, taking care to keep the other one closed and held tight in his lap. "Blaine, what are you really trying to ask me?"

Blaine breathes out a heavy sigh. "I think I'm a little confused. I mean…everyone says I look like my grandpa and you tell me that I have the same smile and that we have the same eyes, and you say that you love how I look. But then you say that you didn't have romantic feelings toward my grandpa, so I guess I just don't understand how that can be true if you're with me. And if you're with me, how do I know you're seeing _me_ and not your best friend?"

There's a soft smile on Kurt's face and he squeezes Blaine's hand. "I'm sure you've heard all of the ways you're like your grandfather, but sweetheart, for every way you're _like_ him, there are two ways that you're not. You're both smart and kind, but George was always very guarded and protective of himself. He never really let anyone know what was going on inside his head. _You_ are an open book. I can tell exactly what you're thinking the moment it crosses your mind and I love that about you. You're not ashamed of showing your emotions or being in love.

"At first, when I saw you, I knew immediately that you had to be an Anderson. You've all been the same for generations: the hair, the charm, the manners. But I knew there was something different about you. George was always…" Kurt takes a breath and looks up toward the ceiling as he searches for the word. "Serious?" He shakes his head and his lips twitch downward. "No, that's not the right way to describe it. He was always hyper-focused on doing what he thought he was expected to do. He went into accounting because his father did it. He joined the football team because his father was on it. He never let himself have a dream and I hated that."

Kurt's frown turns up into a small smile. "Did you know that he wanted to be a writer?"

"No," Blaine answers, a smile touching his own face, "He never told me that. I never saw him writing…"

"That's because he stopped when he was seventeen. His father told him it was a waste of time. So, he stopped writing. He acted like it didn't bother him, but I know it did. He said he needed to 'refocus his efforts'. Less than a month later, he was writing a letter to Yale where his father went to get information about their accounting program." Kurt shakes his head sadly. "He would be so proud of you for standing up to your father, Blaine."

He presses a kiss to Blaine's lips before sighing and continuing with a small smile. "But what I'm saying is, at first, when I looked at you, all I could see were the similarities, but it didn't take long for me to realize that you were your own person who I really wanted to get to know." He squeezes Blaine's hand and smiles. "Now when I see you, all I see are the ways you're different, all the things that make you _Blaine." _He leans forward and kisses Blaine again and Blaine smiles into the kiss.

"Sweetheart, I love _you_. I'm not holding on to some old crush on your grandfather." Kurt laughs as though the thought is absurd, and Blaine can't help but feel better from such a genuine response. "The only thing that always seems to remind me of him is that you both have the same sense of humor, so when I see you laugh at something inane like he would, smiling that huge smile, it always makes me remember him and I feel grateful that everything happened like it did or else I would have never gotten to meet you."

That thought gives Blaine pause. He hadn't considered that. If not for Kurt, his grandfather would have never been able to get married and have a son and without that son, Blaine wouldn't have a father. He literally wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Kurt's sacrifice. Everything is connected and the thought is mindblowing. He's pulled from his whirling thoughts by Kurt squeezing his hand again.

"Blaine, I believe that everything happens for a reason. There's a reason I didn't die when I got shot. I was really bitter for so many years, because no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't seem to find the reason. I watched George get older and saw how happy he was and that soothed the wound, but there was always that part of me that was still searching for the reason. I never for a second regretted saving him, but I just couldn't figure out why I didn't die. I couldn't figure out what the reason was that I was still around," Kurt says, his eyes warm and earnest despite the seemingly bleak story.

"But," he continues, "I could never find my reason," A wide smile crosses Kurt's face and light plays in his eyes. "because he hadn't been born yet."

There are tears in Blaine's eyes and Kurt leans forward and kisses him, slow and sweet, before pulling back and holding up his hand, turning it palm up and opening his fingers to reveal some kind of necklace. "These are my dog tags. I put them back with my stuff when I ran after my transformation and George returned them to my dad. My joining the army set off the chain of events that led me to you, so I want you to have these."

He tucks the tags into Blaine's hand and folds his fingers over them, pressing a kiss to his hand.

Blaine stares at them, incredulous. "C-Can I wear them?"

"Of course," Kurt answers, a proud smile lighting up his face. He takes them from Blaine's hand and slips the chain over his head, the tags clattering against the front of his shirt as they settle against his chest. Kurt looks almost moved to tears and he shakes his head an whispers, "I love you, Blaine. I will love you forever."

Tears fill Blaine's eyes as he thinks about the fact that Kurt could quite literally love him_ forever_. Forever means much more to a vampire than it means to a human, because Blaine's forever and Kurt's forever are two very different things.

And it's the first time since the day he found out about Kurt's secret that Blaine thinks about his own mortality. Kurt has lost so much and someday, he's going to lose Blaine. And he'll be alone again, only this time, he'll know what he was missing, because going through life searching for something ephemeral and feeling lost is comparatively better than finding what you've been searching for all of those years only to have it taken away.

He reaches up and takes the cool metal of the tags between his fingers as he affirms, "Forever."

A soft smile touches Kurt's face and he leans forward to rest his hand against Blaine's cheek. "You are so beautiful, Blaine." The words are a reverent whisper. He closes the distance between them and pushes lightly at Blaine's shoulder, coaxing him to lie on his back, before settling over top of him and deepening the kiss.

Blaine's fingers tangle into the back of Kurt's hair to hold him. "Kurt, I want you, please…" Blaine breathes out against Kurt's lips.

Kurt's hips stutter down, dragging teasingly over the front of Blaine's jeans in a way that has his body arching up into the friction and Blaine sees Kurt's eyes squeeze shut as a quiet whine slips past his control. "Blaine…you…you can't just _say_ things like that," Kurt whines through gritted teeth, his voice just shy of tortured.

"I love you, Kurt," Blaine defends, propping himself up on his elbows and looking Kurt in the eye with determination. "I know you're worried, but I trust you. I know you won't hurt me."

But Kurt is shaking his head and looking equally determined. "No. It's not something I'm going to risk, Blaine. I refuse to take the chance of really hurting you. I couldn't live with myself if I did anything to hurt you or worse…"

"I know that you won't, Kurt," Blaine says, his voice soft and pleading. He reaches up to press his palm against Kurt's cheek. "Kurt, I want you and I'm hoping you want me too—"

Kurt rolls his eyes. "Of course I want you, Blaine, don't be ridiculous—"

"Then what exactly is it that we're waiting for? I'm always going to be _human_, Kurt, so no matter what happens, there's going to be a risk…" Blaine trails off as realization dawns on him. "You don't want me to be human when we do this, do you?"

"I refuse to risk you getting hurt. I'm not going to let myself get out of control around you," Kurt says by way of explanation.

"You want me to be a vampire." It's not a question.

Kurt squeezes his eyes shut and sits up, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes in frustration. "No," he says quickly. "I mean…yes, I do, but I hate that I want this for you. The idea of losing you someday kills me and I know that if you were a vampire, I'd never have to lose you. It's the most selfish thing—"

"Kurt, honey, no," Blaine says softly, sitting up beside his boyfriend. "It's not selfish. You've lost so much, and I don't want you to lose anyone else."

"I was serious when I said that I'll love you forever, Blaine," Kurt answers earnestly.

Blaine gives him a small smile and kisses him on the lips. "I know, sweetheart. But becoming a vampire isn't something I've ever thought about before—"

"Then don't think about it right now," Kurt says, his voice ringing with sincerity. "Blaine, this isn't something you have to think about now or ever, if you don't want to. Vampire or human, I will love you just the same, okay?"

Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine and Blaine lets his head fall against Kurt's shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his neck before whispering, "I wish you trusted yourself half as much as I trust you."

There's thoughtful silence for a long moment before Kurt speaks again. "We can—We can _try_, Blaine."

Blaine pulls back a little and meets Kurt's eyes, taking both of his hands. "Yeah?"

Kurt nods. "Yes." His voice is tentative and slow. "But if anything starts to go even remotely wrong, we're going to stop."

A hopeful smile lifts the corner of Blaine's mouth. "Really?"

"Yes," Kurt confirms, smiling in spite of himself. "But not now. I want it to be special."

Blaine slides closer to Kurt and tightens his arm. "Will this be your first time too?"

He's sure he already knows the answer, but he can't help that possessive little pang of curiosity in his stomach. Kurt doesn't seem like the type of boy to sleep around, but still…

"Yes, Blaine," Kurt answers, nodding. His voice is soft and intimate. "It's not something I ever really gave much thought to. I was essentially just trying to live through high school and then I joined the army and well…I suppose you know the rest of that story by now." A coy smile touches Kurt's face.

Blaine is just about to speak when his phone chimes in his pocket. He takes it out and unlocks the screen. "It's my dad," he narrates. He scrolls through the text message. "He wants to talk."

"That sounds…ominous," Kurt says slowly, his brow furrowing in concern. "Is everything okay do you think?"

Blaine doesn't look up from the screen, trying to read deeper into a message that just isn't there. "I'm not sure. I hope so."

Kurt squeezes his hand but is otherwise silent, letting the moment fall into a companionable quiet until Blaine suggest that they should probably go find out what his father wants. Kurt nods and takes Blaine's hand to lead him through the house, both giving a polite wave and goodbye to Finn as they pass through the living room. The man just seems pleased by the smile on Kurt's face and their intertwined hands.

The drive back to Blaine's is relatively quiet, just humming along with the radio and holding hands across the console until Kurt pulls up at the end of Blaine's driveway. "I'm going to go run a few errands, okay? Let me know what happens."

Blaine nods and leans across the car to give Kurt a quick goodbye kiss. "I'm sure it's okay," he says with more sureness than he actually feels. "I'll call you."

He climbs out of the car and watches it pull away before turning toward the walkway toward the front stairs.

The second he opens the front door, his guard immediately goes up. His father is sitting silently in the living room, watching the door with a somber expression. Something is definitely wrong. Blaine closes the door and turns toward his father hesitantly. "What's wrong, dad?"

He's standing awkwardly in the entry so his father gestures for him to sit, still silent and looking uncomfortable. His father clears his throat and begins with, "I've given this a lot of thought and I've decided that I'm not going to sit idly by and watch you throw your life away on something as frivolous as a music degree."

Oh. Blaine's face falls a little, but honestly, his father's disapproval isn't something that's entirely a new concept. "I'm sorry, dad, but I've made up my mind. This is what I want for my life."

His father holds up a hand toward Blaine to stop him. "You say that, but I want to make sure you know the consequences of your actions." He takes a deep breath and sits impossibly straighter. "You saying that you're going to go to school for music is essentially a slap in the face to generations of this family. Your great-grandfather and your grandfather were both accountants and this is a slap in the face to the tradition of this family."

"That's not true, dad," Blaine defends, shaking his head. "I think that grandpa would be proud that I want to follow my own dreams, because he didn't get a chance to."

"What are you talking about?" his father asks, steel lining his voice.

Blaine leans forward toward his father. "Did you know that grandpa wanted to be a writer? I never understood where I got my creative streak from, but I guess it's just another thing I got from him. So, I think he'd be proud of me—"

"Proud that his grandson is throwing his life away?" Mr. Anderson cuts in abruptly.

"No. Proud that I'm willing to stand up for myself and follow my dreams," Blaine answers with determination.

His father shakes his head, looking just shy of angry. "I don't know where you're getting all of these grand notions about your grandfather, Blaine, but—"

"Did he ever tell you that he wanted you to become an accountant like he did?" Blaine asks, cutting his father off and catching him off guard. Confusion knocks the man back a second and he falters around an answer so Blaine continues. "I bet he didn't. I bet he wanted you to follow your own dream, but you just figured that you were _expected_ to follow in his footsteps."

Blaine takes a deep breath. "Dad, I love you, but I can't do that. I can't live my life according to what's expected of me. I want you to be proud of me, dad, but I want you to be proud of me for the things that make me who I am and music is one of those things. I love to play music and sing. It makes me so happy and I want to do that for the rest of my life. And I'd love it if you would support me in this, because it really means a lot to me."

"I'm sorry, Blaine, but I can't do that," his father says, shaking his head and not sounding sorry at all. "I was hoping you'd change your mind and it wouldn't come to this, but you've left me no choice. Either you pursue an accounting degree and take over the firm or find another way to support yourself, because your mother and I won't anymore."

Blaine freezes, his blood running cold as the words sink in. It's like he heard the words but they made no sense. "W—What?" he asks, sounding just as stunned and confused as he feels.

"Until you come to your senses and do the right thing, your mother and I will no longer support you. You will need to find a new place to live," he says, his voice stern and final. "I'm sorry, son, but this is for your own good."

Blaine laughs once without humor in spite of himself. "For my own good? You're kicking me out of the family because I won't do what you want me to do and you say that it's for my own good?"

His father crosses his arms and says nothing so the room falls into uncomfortable silence. Blaine slaps his hands against his thighs. "Fine." He's fighting back tears of rejection and abandonment as he stands up. "I'll get my things and I'll be gone in an hour."

Again, his father says nothing.

Blaine does his best not to stumble on his way out of the living room and up the stairs, unshed tears blurring his vision. He refuses to let his father see him cry. He moves quickly around his room, tossing important things and clothes into a big suitcase, deciding to come back and get the rest later when he has more time to pack, and goes back downstairs. He pauses in the entryway, bag slung over his shoulder, and turns toward his father.

"I just—I just want you to remember this. When you're wondering why I spent so much time with grandpa when I was growing up, I want you to remember this. You have never supported me in anything that _I_ wanted to do and tried to make me do what you did and what grandpa did. This house was the only place I ever really felt at home and I'm coming to realize that it's because you weren't there. I only felt loved and _at home_ when you weren't around. Just…remember that when and if you ever finally decide that you're going to miss me."

He nods once and opens the door to step out into the sunlight. As he closes the door behind himself and steps off the porch, he lets the tears start to fall as he dials Kurt's number. It goes to voicemail so he clears his throat—which does embarrassingly little to hide the tears in his voice—and leaves a message.

"Hey, baby. I…um…I need you to pick me up." His voice cracks as he finishes with, "I'm at the end of my driveway. Please…just call me back. I really don't want to be here right now."

With his phone held in his hand, he drops down to sit on his bags and lets misery take him, burying his face in his hands and crying in earnest.

* * *

**A/N: Reviews are always appreciated. And the official chapter count of this story is going to be eight with the possibility of a sequel at some point. :)**


	7. Part Seven

**Part Seven**

* * *

Blaine sniffles as Kurt shoulders his bag and opens the door to Finn's house.

It's plain to see that Kurt is furious. There's subtle tension in his shoulders that he's trying to hide, and Blaine's sure that it's for his benefit but he can't bring himself to really care. He just kind of feels numb down to his toes, his brain fighting against processing what has happened.

Finn heaves himself off the couch with a groan and crosses over to where Blaine is standing woodenly in the entry and rests a hand on his shoulder. "Kurt told me what happened and you're welcome to stay here as long as you want. He had no right to do what he did."

"Thank you, sir," Blaine offers, his voice flat. He really is grateful, but he's not sure he's capable of sounding anything other than detached.

"I've told you, kid. Call me Finn. I'm the same age as your boyfriend and you don't call him sir…or at least…if you do, please don't tell me about it." He finishes with a wry smile that Blaine can't help but make the attempt to return.

"Jesus, Finn," Kurt groans, rolling his eyes as he grabs Blaine's arm and pulls him toward the stairs.

Finn holds out a hand toward Blaine, looking more serious now. "I mean it, though, Blaine. You can stay here as long as you need."

Blaine is looking at the floor as he mumbles his thanks, feeling weaker by the second as his body fights against breaking down. He's vaguely aware of Kurt's hand on his elbow leading him upstairs and into his bedroom. A hand slides up and down soothingly over Blaine's bicep. "Why don't you go lay down, honey. I'll get some of your things put away."

"No," Blaine shakes his head, "Please come lay down with me. I just…" He trails off, unsure of what he _just. _Kurt nods and laces their fingers together, pulling Blaine toward the bed and letting him cuddle against his side. Blaine splays his fingers across Kurt's chest and stares blankly at them, feeling lost and very, very small. "I don't know what I did wrong, Kurt. I mean, I must have done something—"

Fabric rustles as Kurt shakes his head against the pillow. "No, honey, you didn't do anything. You did everything right. And I am so proud of you."

Silent tears slide down Blaine's face and he sniffles once. "Thank you," Blaine whispers weakly, his voice thick and croaking.

Kurt kisses the top of his head in reply. "Why don't you try and take a nap? You'll feel better when you wake up."

"Will you stay?" He shifts a little closer and tightens the arm he has draped over Kurt's stomach. He really, really doesn't want to be alone right now. Even if he is asleep.

"Of course, Blaine." The words are comforting and they're punctuated by the soft press of Kurt's lips against his forehead.

Kurt starts humming and the quiet sound is enough to lull Blaine to sleep.

—

_From the faint purplish orange glow of the sky, it's just before sunrise and Blaine feels the pressure of a building headache pressing down behind his eyes. Everything is crisp and vivid even in the darkness of the predawn streets of Lima. _

_He's standing in a part of the city he's always been warned about. Never go to Lima Heights after dark. Somehow, he's not afraid. There are a few people roaming the streets, talking in quiet voices as they're huddled together. By the way they keep sneaking glances at Blaine, he's sure they're unhappy that he might be close enough to overhear their conversation. _

_The dark look in their eyes should evoke the familiar feeling of anxiety that Blaine always feels. The deep-rooted anxiety that he's had ever since a very similar group of guys cornered and attacked him when he was fourteen. He's been ashamed of how jumpy and distrustful he is around people ever since and these men should make him want to run. He's been scared into a panic attack by less. _

_But he's not even nervous. He feels powerful and it takes a minute for him to realize why. _

_There's an alley to his left where movement catches his eye, a quick flash of pale skin, and he turns to see Kurt coming to a stop at the mouth of the alley, smiling a warm, easy smile that Blaine can't help but return. He's by Kurt's side before he even realizes he's made a conscious effort to do so and Kurt's smile widens. _

_"Beautiful, Blaine," he whispers in disbelief as he leans forward to kiss Blaine. "You're absolutely beautiful." _

_Kurt's lips taste faintly of something addictive. Something Blaine feels like he can't get enough of. Masked behind the sweet, heady taste of Kurt, is the taste of blood. He kisses deeper, chasing both of the equally intoxicating tastes. He's kissing Kurt in public, in the worst part of town, after dark. It's the single most dangerous thing he's ever done and the idea makes him feel even more powerful. There's nothing that can stop him now. _

_He hears the sound of footsteps drawing closer. "Hey!"_

_He just smiles against Kurt's lips, untroubled by the indignant shout of one of the men down the street. They don't matter. They're part of a different world. But apparently those men don't know that. He shouts again and this time Blaine looks up, lips still quirked up into the tranquil smile that always comes from kissing Kurt. _

_In a whisper so quiet he's sure human ears could never catch it, Kurt whispers, "They can't touch us." _

_Blaine turns toward the approaching men and they falter back a step, their eyes widening as they land on his face. The pull of the blood from Kurt's lips must still be evident in his eyes, an almost glowing honeyed-hazel color looking distinctly inhuman in the darkness. Kurt's words echo through his mind and he reaches down to lace their fingers together and take a step toward the slowly approaching trio of men. _

_He can't help toying with them just a little as he asks, "Is there a problem?" _

_The one spearheading the group swallows thickly and Blaine can hear his heart racing, the pulse of hot blood through his veins making Blaine's mouth water and his throat burn dryly. The man shakes his head and takes a step back. _

_"I didn't think so." Blaine smiles as he tugs on Kurt's hand, pulling him past the group. Kurt throws his head back and laughs as the men all but trip over themselves to get away. _

_He wraps his arms around Blaine's neck and kisses his smile, his voice playful and bright. "My hero." _

_—_

When Blaine opens his eyes again, it's dark. Kurt's hand is still sliding in a soothing pattern over his back and he lets himself drift for a minute, content and warm in Kurt's arms. It's a comforting feeling to a boy who is so often afraid to know that he's completely and totally safe. He shifts unconsciously closer to Kurt's body.

"You're so perfect, Blaine," Kurt breathes, his voice the same warm, reverent whisper Blaine remembers from his dream.

He's too content and comfortable to really form a response so he hums out an acknowledgement and they lapse back into silence, Kurt's fingers coming to card through the back of Blaine's sleep-mussed curls.

In the soft, peaceful silence of the room, Blaine's dream swirls in his mind. The power he felt coursing through his veins, knowing he could protect Kurt—not that Kurt needed protecting—and keep him safe, knowing that he and Kurt could be together forever.

"Do you think I'd be a good vampire?" Blaine asks without really thinking the question through and he feels Kurt's chest rise and fall with a sigh beneath his head.

"Sweetheart, you're a good _human_," Kurt answers quietly. "This really isn't something I even want you to think about. Just because I'm a vampire doesn't mean that you have to be too."

Blaine takes a deep breath. "What if it was what I wanted?"

Kurt is silent for a beat before asking, "_Is it _you want?" in a slow, quiet tone.

"I'm not sure," Blaine answers honestly. "I mean, I know we've talked about it a little, but I don't know. I have a million questions. Will I still be _me_? Am I going to want to kill everyone?" He's well aware he's rambling but can't seem to make himself stop even if he's sure he sounds like a bumbling idiot.

"You'll still be _you_, Blaine. If there was any doubt of that, we wouldn't even be _having_ this conversation," Kurt assures before sighing. "Unfortunately, the thirst is part of becoming a vampire. It's always in the back of your mind, but you learn to live with it. I hardly even notice it unless it's been too long since I've fed, but there are times when it feels like it could get the best of you. It's happened when I was with you and that scares the hell out of me, because I couldn't live with myself if I hurt you."

Blaine shudders at the thought. "But you didn't."

"But I thought about it," Kurt argues, shaking his head. A shudder of fear runs down Blaine's spine and Kurt pulls him closer. "I would never consciously hurt you, Blaine, but instinct is an unconscious thing that I have to fight to control sometimes. A lot of vampires look at humans as just a food source. The way you would think of cows: put on Earth simply to be fed on. You don't think twice about eating a hamburger, do you?"

It's a rhetorical question so Blaine doesn't bother with a response, more curious as to how this fits into Kurt's argument.

"It's so deeply engrained that cows are food that there's never a moment of doubt. It's like instinct. I have to fight every day not to hurt someone, because it is natural for a vampire to hurt humans. And for people like us, Blaine, it's like torture. Your body is instinctively craving something that it goes against the very core of your morality to obtain. You have no idea what it's like to know that you've taken someone's life." Kurt's voice is pleading and serious by the end.

Blaine is silent as he turns over Kurt's words. Could he live a life that is controlled by the constant drive to feed? Would he be able to be strong like Kurt and withstand the compulsion for human blood to instead feed on something that makes him sick?

"Blaine, I would do everything in my power to keep you from hurting anyone, but you have to understand that things happen that are beyond your control. Especially when you're young and the craving is so much stronger. You'll do anything for it and, honey, I know you. If you ever hurt someone, it would kill you," Kurt says with quiet sureness.

"I was different than you are. I joined the army so that I could feel like I was protecting the country and I stand by everything I did there. When the German soldier jumped out and tried to take a shot at your grandfather, I didn't think twice about shooting him. He was trying to kill my best friend. I don't regret what I did to make sure George was safe and I'd do it again. But there's a difference between "kill or be killed" and indiscriminately killing in order to feed," Kurt says, serious and slow.

Blaine is shaking his head. "You saved that woman's life, Kurt. He could have killed her—"

"But I killed him." It's a simple statement of fact. "It wasn't war. He wasn't coming after me. I was in no immediate danger for my life. I just _killed him_. Somewhere, there was a family who was never going to have their son back. Just like my family. No one deserves to die like that, Blaine, and I had no control over what I was doing. I was so consumed by my thirst that I took a life and I can never take that back."

Kurt takes a deep breath and sits up, pulling Blaine with him in order to look directly in his eyes, taking his hands and squeezing them gently. "Blaine, I want you to understand that I will love you no matter what choice you make. No matter what happens or what path you choose, I will _always_ be there to support you," He speaks with such deliberate sureness that Blaine is enraptured by the words, positive that no one has ever meant anything more than Kurt means what he's saying now. "But I want you to tell me why you're even considering this life for yourself."

His voice is small and quiet, but Blaine manages, "Kurt, if I stay human, I'm going to die."

"People die, Blaine. It's the way life is supposed to go. If you want to become a vampire because you have a fear of death, let me tell you that this isn't the right path—"

"No. I'm not afraid of dying." Blaine shakes his head vehemently, trying to clear his head and think about what he wants to say. "Kurt, if I die, you'll be alone again and I don't ever want you to be lonely again. I'm already sure that I want to spend the rest of my life with you…it's just a matter of how long that life is actually going to be. I can't stand the thought of you being alone."

Kurt sounds a little upset when he starts, "Blaine, there is nothing I want more than to be with you forever, but if you're doing this for me—"

But Blaine shakes his head. "I'm not doing it for you—well, I _am_ sort of—but this would be something I'd do for myself, too. I don't know what I want yet. There's so much to think about. I mean, on one hand, I'd never have to live without you—"

"You never have to live without me now," Kurt interjects.

"You know what I mean, Kurt," Blaine replies. "I'd be able to see everything with you and you wouldn't have to be alone again. You wouldn't have to lose me. But," he continues, "I'm scared, Kurt. I don't want to lose myself along the way. You said that killing someone changes you and I don't want that. I'm so afraid that I'm going to be so blood-crazy that I'm not even going to know who I am anymore."

Kurt squeezes his hands again and looks into his eyes. "Blaine Anderson, I firmly believe that you are my soulmate. I believe that the reason I was put on this Earth eighty-eight years ago was to one day find you. I have waited that long to be with you and I intend to treasure and cherish every single second I have with you and not take a moment for granted.

"Whether you choose to stay human and I lose you one day or you choose immortality, nothing about the way I feel for you will ever change. And if you do decide to become a vampire, I hope you will have waited until you've actually had a chance to live, because I wish that I had the chance to do that. Had a chance to do all of the human things you take for granted without even realizing it, because when you become a vampire, everything is more difficult. Behind every action there is always that constant nagging thirst to remind you that you're not human. So please, for me, promise that you'll wait to decide what you want, because there's no rush and if you do decide to choose immortality, I couldn't stand to think that I transformed you before you ever even got to learn what it is to be a human first, because, Blaine, you're just a baby."

Kurt smiles a little at his own words and kisses Blaine softly on the lips. "You have no idea what you'd be missing, what you have to give up. I wasn't able to hold my father's hand when he died, Blaine. I had to find out that my father was dead through your grandfather over a year after it happened, because you can't go home."

"I can't go home now," Blaine replies dejectedly.

"And I am so sorry for that." Kurt's hands frame Blaine's face and he kisses him again, slow and lingering. "I want to take you back to New York with me and I want to watch you pursue your dreams. See you teach music or play in a coffee shop or perform on Broadway. No matter what your dream is, Blaine, I want you to do it, and I want you to be human when you do." There is fire and passion in Kurt's eyes and Blaine is absolutely positive that he has no idea how much this means to Kurt, but he already finds himself nodding in agreement.

He can imagine the life Kurt is painting for him, the lights and dreams of a bright future and God, it's more than he ever imagined. And he wants it. He wants the city and the music and the _life_. "I love you so much," Blaine breathes, surprised by how thick with emotion his voice sounds, surprised by the tears sliding down his cheeks. "I'll wait, Kurt. I promise, I'll wait."

He throws his arms around Kurt's neck and kisses him, deep and urgent. No one has ever made him feel as whole and wanted and absolutely alive as Kurt makes him feel and God, he just needs him. Right now.

"Blaine," Kurt breathes against his lips and it's not until then that he realizes he's been voicing his thoughts.

In for a penny… "Please, Kurt. I know you wanted candles and romance, but I just need you right now…"

Kurt kisses him and pulls back, stroking hands down his cheeks. "_This_ is all I've ever wanted." He frames Blaine's face. "You. I don't need candles or music to make it romantic. I have you. I love you, Blaine. So much."

There's no time to answer before Kurt is pushing forward and easing Blaine back against the mattress, hands roaming everywhere. Blaine's body arches up into Kurt's touch unconsciously and he thinks he might understand just a little about what it means to truly crave something.

He fists his hands into the fabric of Kurt's button up shirt and pulls him down flush against his body, pulling a surprised whine out of Kurt before he comes to and kisses Blaine on the lips, hard, and rocks his hips down, grinding against the hard line of Blaine's cock through his jeans, and Blaine's eyes roll back as he feels Kurt equally hard and straining at the denim of his own pants.

"More, Kurt, please," Blaine manages in a pathetic whine, his fingers coming to clumsily undo the buttons of Kurt's shirt until it's hanging open and he can slide his hands across the strong, smooth planes of Kurt's chest before doing his best to pull the shirt off. Finally, Kurt helps him and the shirt flutters to the floor, quickly joined by Blaine's—taken off with much more graceful ease by Kurt's sure fingers.

"Kurt, you are so beautiful, baby." He's knocked breathless by the sight of Kurt shirtless and he literally aches to see more. Kurt kisses him full and deep, there's urgency and passion, but Blaine can feel Kurt's lips turned up into a smile against his own and can't help but relax and coast on the perfect sureness that he feels. Kurt is the one. Nothing will ever feel as right as being with Kurt like this.

Kurt's lips pull away with a quiet smack and when Blaine's eyes drag open, Kurt is just far enough away that Blaine can see how dark his eyes are. He feels a swell of pride to know that he did that to the most beautiful person he's ever known. "Blaine, are you sure this is what you want?"

Blaine nods and stretches up to kiss Kurt again only to have a restraining hand pressed into his chest, soothing the rejection by sliding in idle patterns over his skin. "You're not just upset about your dad and I made you feel better so—"

"Kurt, baby, I love you, but you think too much," Blaine says, a warm adoring smile on his face, and Kurt breathes out a self-deprecating laugh. "I'm doing this because I love you and I want my first time to be with you. Now."

The tension fades from Kurt's shoulders and he leans down to kiss Blaine on the lips again, soft and loving, until Blaine's head swims with it. There are no more protests or questions and Kurt's hand slides over Blaine's chest, kneading the muscle beneath his fingers and rolling his hips down as though he can't help it.

Slowly, his hand moves to the button of Blaine's jeans and he pulls back just a little to whisper, "Okay?" against Blaine's lips. Blaine nods frantically and reconnects their lips as Kurt pops the button and eases down his fly, fingers dipping below the waistband and cupping him through the straining cotton of his underwear, dragging the heel of his hand over the length of his cock with just enough pressure to drive him insane, his own hands scrambling down to return the favor until Kurt is panting into his mouth.

"B-Blaine, stop," Kurt breathes, hot breath fanning across Blaine's bee-stung lips, and Blaine's hand stills immediately. He's just about to ask what's wrong when Kurt kisses him quickly to quell his fears. "If we don't get our pants off soon, none of this is going to happen, sweetheart."

Even through the lack of blood flowing to his brain right now, Blaine sees his point and laughs quietly, lifting his hips as Kurt shimmies his pants and underwear down his legs and tosses them aside, leaving him lying naked on the mattress. He fights the urge to instinctively cover up, because this is _Kurt_. He doesn't need to be shy.

"Y-You too, though," he chokes out, gesturing to Kurt's pants.

Kurt swallows thickly and nods before standing beside the bed and turning with his back toward Blaine, easing his jeans down and pulling them off gracefully, tossing them aside to joins Blaine's in a heap on the floor.

Blaine's eyes are glued to Kurt's back, trailing down the broad expanse of his shoulders to his tapering waist before landing on the perfect swell of his ass. He wants to reach out and touch but finds himself frozen, just admiring Kurt like fine art. Because, damn it, he _is_.

When Kurt doesn't move, it becomes apparent that something is wrong. "Kurt, honey, turn around," Blaine says with concern, reaching out to touch his back in a way he hopes will comfort. Kurt takes a deep breath and slowly turns and all of Blaine's thoughts and comforts go out the window, struck dumb by the pure, untouched beauty that is Kurt.

His eyes are apprehensive but they soften immediately upon seeing Blaine and he sits down beside where Blaine is lying on the bed and takes his hand. "I've been around a very long time, Blaine, but I have never felt more nervous and vulnerable and absolutely human than I do right now."

"I love you, Kurt." It's all Blaine can manage, but goddammit, he means it from the bottom of his heart.

Kurt smiles and brushes at a stray curl on Blaine's forehead. "I love you, too, Blaine." His expression sobers and he rests a hand on Blaine's cheek. "If I hurt you…"

"You won't," Blaine promises, but Kurt is shaking his head, unwilling to be dismissed.

"But if I do…If you love me, you will tell me if I hurt you, because nothing is more important to me than you're safety."

Blaine nods. "Of course, Kurt." He rests his hand over top of Kurt's on his cheek. "I trust you. I wish you trusted yourself as much as I trust you."

The words are hushed and reverent and Kurt gives a small, loving smile before leaning down and kissing him again. "Thank you, Blaine."

"Don't thank me," Blaine dismisses before smiling. "Kiss me."

Kurt laughs, soft and untroubled, and kisses him, really kisses him, and Blaine lets himself get lost in it, the feeling of Kurt's lips sliding against his own, knowing that they're not stopping. Not now.

He wraps his arms around Kurt's shoulders and holds him in place, kissing him deeper as his hands map the planes of muscle of Kurt's back as they shift beneath his fingers. Kurt rocks against him, his cock dragging perfectly along the length of his own and making him whine breathlessly against Kurt's lips.

Without breaking the kiss, Kurt reaches over and pulls open the drawer of the nightstand, retrieving a bottle of lube and Blaine pulls away, quirking an inquisitive eyebrow, a smile tugging at his lips. Kurt shrugs.

"You're monumentally impatient, so I knew it was only a matter of time before I gave you what you wanted. I can never seem to deny you anything," Kurt teases, smiling, calm and happy. Blaine's just about to mumble something back when Kurt's lips find his again and he forgets what he was going to say because who the hell cares.

Kurt reaches between them and slides a hand over Blaine's stomach, the back of his hand bumping against his cock before finally wrapping his hand around the length of it and stroking him languidly. Blaine reaches down and returns the favor until Kurt stops him, citing the same reason as before, before darting a kiss to his lips and taking the bottle of lube and settling between Blaine's legs.

He takes his time with prep until Blaine is sure he's losing his mind, begging Kurt to please just _do it_ already. But Kurt keeps petting his thigh because he "wants to make sure," but finally he presses a parting kiss to the tender inside of Blaine's thigh and reaches back up across the bed to dig in the nightstand drawer again, pulling out a little foil square and tearing it open, his eyes never leaving Blaine's as puts it on and stretches back over top of him.

Blaine gasps as the unfamiliar but amazing feeling of Kurt's cock nudging against his ass, sliding along the crease of his thigh and sending sparks of arousal shooting all through his body as he pulls Kurt down to kiss him. It's not long before Kurt pulls away to settle back between his legs, lifting them until Blaine's calves are resting on his shoulders, his ankles knocking together around Kurt's neck, and leaning forward to kiss him again.

"Ready?" Kurt asks, and Blaine feels the pressure of Kurt's cock starting to press inside. He nods, not trusting his voice and Kurt kisses him as he slowly pushes inside.

Blaine squeezes his eyes shut at the pain but says nothing. He doesn't have to, because Kurt is already trying to soothe. "It's okay, baby. I'm sorry." The words come out stilted as though Kurt's trying to restrain himself, and Blaine tries to focus on anything else as Kurt bottoms out and goes completely still.

It's unlike anything he's ever felt before, so much more than the few times he's dared to try using his fingers when he was alone. Kurt is _everywhere_. He focuses on the feeling of being completely surrounded by Kurt, his smell, the warmth of his skin, the taste of his lips, and soon the pain dulls into something more akin to pressure and he nods. "Okay."

"Okay?" Kurt asks, sliding a thumb across the apple of Blaine's cheek and looking him in the eye.

Blaine nods again. "Yeah. M-Move."

So Kurt does and Blaine's head falls back against the pillow and a low moan rumbles in Kurt's chest. He starts rolling his hips slowly, in and out, until Blaine is grabbing at the sheets for any sort of hold on reality and Kurt takes it as his cue to pick up the pace and thrust forward hard. Blaine has to cover his mouth to keep from crying out loud enough for the neighbors to hear. Kurt quickly bends down and kisses him as he keeps the same steady rhythm. He's sure neither of them are going to last long but he can't find it in himself to care, not with the beautifully urgent, needful little sounds pouring out of Kurt with each increasingly desperate thrust.

"So beautiful, Blaine. You feel so good," Kurt babbles between kisses. "I'm not going to last—"

"Don't care," Blaine manages, the words cracking in odd places and sounding more like a whine. "Just please, don't stop."

Kurt pitches forward and captures Blaine's lips in a bruising kiss as his hand comes between the two of them to fist quickly over Blaine's cock, catching Blaine off guard and causing him to moan out a frantic, desperate sound into Kurt's mouth. "I'm close."

"Me too," Kurt whimpers, his hand never stilling on Blaine's cock and he just needs a little more to push him over the edge, already so close, and he finds it when Kurt kisses down his neck, sucking roughly at the skin before sinking his teeth into the spot where Blaine's pulse is pounding rapidly beneath the skin.

His vision whites out as he comes hard over Kurt's fist, his back arching off the bed and his head falling heavily against the pillow as he gasps for breath. He's just coming back to when he feels Kurt go rigid above him and he gets to see his face twist in ecstasy and something that sounds like a frantic moaning cry of Blaine's name tear out before he relaxes, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath, a feat that is made nearly impossible by the fact that he won't stop kissing Blaine long enough to let either of them breathe.

They're kissing as they come down, hands lazily exploring each others' bodies until it becomes entirely too much effort. Blaine pushes down a hiss of discomfort as Kurt's cock slips out, but Kurt silences it with a kiss before reaching down to the floor and grabbing a shirt to clean him up with, cleaning himself up quickly and dropping the condom in the trash as he tosses the shirt to the floor.

"Wow," is all Blaine can manage as he's being pulled into Kurt's arms. Kurt laughs breathlessly and kisses the back of his neck.

"Oops," Kurt says, his finger trailing over the side of Blaine's neck. His voice sounds more amused than troubled but still lined with something too serious for the mood.

"What?" Blaine reaches up to touch where Kurt's hand is and feels something wet and sticky against his fingertips. "You bit me, didn't you?"

Kurt kisses the back of his head. "I didn't mean to bite you that hard. I guess I got carried away." He sounds apologetic and Blaine doesn't want that.

"No, sweetheart, it was perfect." He lifts the back of Kurt's hand to his lips and presses a kiss to it. "I love you and I wouldn't change anything."

He feels Kurt's lips turn up into a smile against his skin so he shifts back more fully into the circle of Kurt's arms.

"I love you, too," he says. The words sound like a promise. "Thank you for trusting me, Blaine."

Blaine hums sleepily and nuzzles sleepily against the pillow. "I knew you wouldn't hurt me."

They lapse into silence, Kurt's hand sliding over Blaine's chest and Blaine is just about asleep when he hears Kurt whisper, "I'd never hurt you, sweetheart."

—

Kurt taps his foot impatiently and checks his phone again. It's not like Blaine to be late.

Now that they only have a couple days left before Blaine comes back to New York with him, they've been rushing around to get all of Blaine's things. Against his father's wishes, Blaine's mother has been letting them into the house to pack up Blaine's room but otherwise offers no comfort or support for her son.

It must be heartbreaking, Kurt thinks, to have your son be forced to move out, but Mrs. Anderson either supports her husband's decision or just doesn't care. Which might be the saddest part of all.

But Blaine seems fine with the entire situation, taking it in stride and looking brightly toward the future. (Not that Kurt had expected any less from him.) Tonight is supposed to be their last trip to the Anderson house to pack up the last of Blaine's belongings and they ran out of boxes.

Kurt had gone with Finn that afternoon to run some errands and gave Blaine the keys to his car, suggesting they meet up for coffee around five before heading over to pack up his room. He watched Blaine pull away and that had been the last he'd heard from him since two. He sets his coffee cup down on the table and picks up his phone, deciding to call one more time before actually leaving the coffee shop to go _find_ him.

It turns out to be unnecessary because Blaine picks up on the third ring, answering immediately with, 'Hey, sweetheart, sorry I haven't called. I'm leaving now. I'm in the alley behind the hardware store. They let me pull up to the back door and take a few boxes. I'll be there in about five minutes."

Kurt laughs a little in relief. "I was starting to get worried. It's not like you to not call."

"I'm sorry," Blaine apologizes. "I just—"

Blaine breaks off and Kurt can hear the sound of someone shouting in the background on the other end of the phone. "Blaine, what's that?"

"I-I'm not sure," Blaine answers, his voice slow and nervous, and Kurt can't help the swell of nervous fear that settles over him. The voice in the background sounds closer to the phone now and Blaine's voice sounds genuinely afraid now. "Kurt, I think it's the guys from the mall…"

Kurt is truly panicking now. "Blaine, get in the car."

He's sure Blaine doesn't hear him because the voice on the other end of the phone is now speaking, cold and menacing and there's cruel laughter. Oh god, there have to be at least three people. Terror is pounding through Kurt and he's on his feet and out the door.

The sound of something—a body—colliding with the side of a car with a loud crash has Kurt crying out toward the phone. There's a tortured shout and the dull, sickening crack of something hard meeting flesh and an agonizing scream before the phone clatters to the ground and goes dead.

There are tears streaming down Kurt's face as he all but flies down the sidewalk, uncaring that people are beginning to take notice of the inhuman speed with which he's running. He just prays to a God that he doesn't recognize that he's not too late.

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**A/N: Reviews are always appreciated! Just one more part after this one!**


	8. Part Eight

**Thank you guys all so much for reading this! I hope you enjoyed it half as much as I did. :) Thank you for all your kind words and encouragement. You'll never know how much it means to me. Alright, enough of my sap. On with the end of the story.**

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**Part Eight**

* * *

He finds Blaine by following the smell of his blood. It's the same sweet smell contained inside his veins, but it's mixed with the smell of asphalt and concrete and comes with the sickening realization that there is blood spilling out of his body. He can follow the smell to where it gets stronger until he knows he's right up on it. It's coming from a shadowed alley and Kurt braces himself for what he's about to see.

Blaine is slumped at the foot of the brick wall that makes up the side of the right building. Kurt listens for a heartbeat, breathing out a sigh of relief when he hears one, no matter how faint and sluggish it might be.

He drops down to his knees beside his barely conscious boyfriend. "Blaine, sweetheart."

Blaine opens his eyes weakly and mumbles something that sounds like _Kurt_ but Kurt shushes him. God, he's dying. There's blood where it's not supposed to be inside his body and his heart is slowing down and threatening to falter in its rhythm.

"Hey, honey, I'm here." His eyes dart around restlessly and he knows it's now or never. And the option of living without Blaine isn't something he can handle. He lifts his wrist to his mouth and bites down hard enough to draw blood before holding it out to Blaine. "Blaine, sweetheart, you're dying. If you drink you'll come back." Blaine's eyes slip closed again as though it's a struggle to keep them open. "Blaine, look at me." He manages a half-lidded stare. "Please, Blaine, drink."

Kurt's voice is frantic now. He can hear the rhythm of Blaine's heart slowing and his breathing becoming shallower. Tears are falling freely from his eyes now, but he has no time to pay attention to his own emotions. "Blaine!" He's shouting now and holding his wrist to Blaine's mouth as his head lolls listlessly on his shoulders, smearing blood around the corner of his lips. "Drink! Please, Blaine!"

He shakes Blaine hard in an attempt to jostle him into awareness and it works just long enough for Blaine to press his lips closer and take one drink before Kurt hears his heart stutter once and then stop. He doesn't know how much is enough. God, what if Blaine didn't drink enough? What if he's not going to come back? He tries to think back to how long it took before his heart started back up, but he doesn't remember.

The entire transformation is a blank, unconscious spot in his memory. He lifts Blaine effortlessly and sets him in the back of the Navigator, parked right next to where Blaine was slumped. Blaine's body is limp and broken and Kurt feels his own tears pouring down his face now as he watches Blaine lying lifelessly over the back seat.

"You're okay, sweetheart," Kurt's voice cracks in anguish. "You're going to be alright."

He's not sure who needs the assurance more because it kind of feels like he's the one dying.

Panicked and on the verge of shaking apart, he climbs into the driver's seat and lays rubber as he pulls out of the alley and points the car toward Finn's.

—

"Jesus, Kurt! What happened?" Finn is on his feet in a second, but Kurt doesn't answer, instead carrying Blaine's limp, broken body up the stairs. Finn is right on his heels. "You didn't…?"

He wants to spin and glare at Finn for even entertaining the thought that he could have possibly done this to Blaine but he just keeps moving, shoving his bedroom door open with his foot and laying Blaine down on the bed only to drop down next to him, feeling just as lifeless as Blaine looks.

Finn crosses over and sits down next to Blaine on the bed and Kurt fights the protective urge that wants to slap Finn's hand away. Blaine wouldn't want to be poked and prodded. Finn's hand quickly freezes on Blaine's wrist. "H-He's not unconscious, is he?"

"No." His voice is detached and wooden, sounding cold even to himself.

Of course Finn would just think he was unconscious. He can't hear that there's no heartbeat, can't hear that there's no breath in his lungs. Can't hear that Blaine is dead. His hands are shaking with rage or grief—maybe both—_probably_ both, but above all else is terror.

"What if I was too late?" Kurt asks, his voice small and shattering like brittle glass. "Finn, what if I was too late and I couldn't save him? He only had a little bit and I don't know how much I'm supposed to give him. I don't remember how much I drank."

He's coming apart at the seams and Blaine still isn't showing any signs of life—or whatever the vampire equivalent is. He ignores Finn and leans over Blaine, brushing a bloody, matted curl from his forehead and pressing a kiss to a patch of clean skin. "Just please be okay, Blaine. Please."

"Kurt?" Finn asks, his voice uncharacteristically solemn and quiet.

"Yeah?" He doesn't take his eyes off Blaine as he answers, reaching down and lifting the back of Blaine's unresponsive hand to his lips.

"I'm here for you, Kurt. No matter what happens, okay?"

Kurt nods and offers an obligatory thanks. He just wants a sign. Anything to tell him that he wasn't too late. That he's not going to lose his reason for being.

"Do you want some time?" Finn asks. He's always been perceptive.

"Please."

Finn nods and pats Blaine on the shoulder. "Come on, buddy," he encourages, "You can do this." He gives a parting nod toward Kurt and quietly makes his exit, leaving Kurt alone with Blaine's body, broken and lifelessly limp.

"I swear to God, Blaine," Kurt starts, his voice coming out as a growl through gritted teeth. "I will kill the sons of bitches that did this to you. Why should they get to live if they've taken you away from me? They waited until you were alone because they're fucking cowards. They snuck up on a vulnerable boy and beat him." He lets himself fully survey the damage. "God, what did they hit you with, honey?"

There are contusions on his skull that would fit the pattern of being struck by something heavy and unforgiving like a pipe or a baseball bat. The thought makes Kurt want to tear their throats out. Anger swells and crashes over him and his hands are trembling with pure hatred. "They don't to take you away from me, Blaine! You don't deserve this! God, you deserve everything good in the world and you just keep being punished!"

The tide of anger goes out, leaving behind fear and doubt that threatens to break him. "Sweetheart, please be okay. Come back to me, baby, please. Just…give me some sign that I wasn't too late." Tears are falling helplessly down his cheeks and he feels lost. Absolutely lost and desperate. If he loses Blaine, he has nothing else. His voice is choked and thick as he whimpers, "Please, baby. Don't leave me."

In the silence of the room, there's a quiet tremble of a sound. It's almost imperceptibly slow, just enough to stir the blood inside of Blaine's body, but a fresh wave of tears fall from Kurt's eyes like the burst of a dam.

Blaine has a heartbeat.

It picks up slowly, settling into the slowed pace of normal vampire rhythm, and Kurt feels like he could fly. He wasn't too late.

"Blaine, sweetheart," he rushes a whisper of pure elation. "You're going to be okay, baby. You're going to be okay."

The toxins in his blood are flowing through Blaine's body, fixing what's broken and molding him for immortality. It's only a matter of time now. He kisses Blaine's still unresponsive lips and settles in to wait. And cry.

—

Kurt dips a washcloth into a basin of warm water, wrings it out, and brings it to dab gingerly at the blood on Blaine's forehead. The wounds healed hours ago so Kurt sets to the task of cleaning up the blood. He waits until he's sure the worst of Blaine's broken bones have set before lifting him and carrying him to the bathtub.

He talks the entire time, murmuring soothing words as though Blaine can hear him as he scrubs away the dirt and dried blood from his dark curls. "You're going to be so perfect, Blaine," Kurt says quietly, running his fingers over Blaine's scalp to rid his hair of the last remnants of conditioner. "Not that you weren't always perfect," he amends, smiling softly because he has a reason to. "God, you're going to be amazing."

He shuts off the water and presses a kiss to Blaine's damp forehead. Blaine is breathing, slow and even, and it seems as though he's just asleep. He dries Blaine off and dresses him before laying him back on the bed, stripping off the bloody quilt to be washed.

There's a quiet knock on the door before it cracks open. "How's he doing?"

Kurt brushes a wet curl from Blaine's face. "He's going to be fine. Look."

Finn crosses the room slowly and shakes his head in disbelief. "It's like nothing happened. He looks…"

"Beautiful," Kurt finishes and Finn nods.

"That wasn't quite what I was going to say, but it works. He looks different…more like you somehow."

"He is more like me," Kurt says quietly. "And I'm not sure how he's going to feel about it. I mean, we talked about it and everything, but we never expected anything like this to happen, but I couldn't let him _die_, Finn. I know that people are supposed to die and that's the way it is, but I just…"

"You did the right thing, Kurt," Finn assures, clapping a hand on his brother's shoulder. Kurt raises a hand to cover Finn's and mumbles a quiet "thank you". "When he wakes up…or whatever…he's going to need blood, isn't he?"

Kurt takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "Yes. God, I don't think I can stand to watch him go through the sickness."

"The sickness?" Finn is confused.

"Remember how I told you that I don't feed on people like the movie vampires?" Kurt asks, breaking it down in a way that Finn will understand. Finn nods his acknowledgment. "Well, that comes at a price. When I feed off of animals or from a blood bag, I get sick. It's like someone is trying to suffocate me and I can feel my blood pumping and it burns."

He eyes Kurt speculatively. "You seem fine to me? Does it hurt all the time?"

"That's the thing, I haven't had the sickness in a couple weeks, because Blaine saw me in pain and made me drink some of his blood—"

Finn's eyes go wide. "You drank Blaine's blood?!" Kurt nods, guilty. "And it helped?" He nods again and Finn lapses into thoughtful silence. "What are you going to feed him?"

"I've got a blood bag for him," Kurt says, pointing toward the mini-fridge in the corner of the room. It's a torturous thought to think about Blaine suffering, but he's pulled from his angst by Finn speaking carefully.

"He'd just need a little human blood in order to be okay, right? I could just let him take a little of mine," Finn suggests.

"You'd do that for him?" Kurt is touched by the gesture and it warms him to realize that Finn is still the same kind-hearted person he's always been, unchanged by the intervening decades.

There's a thoughtful expression on Finn's face and he nods quickly. "He's just a kid, Kurt. No kid should have to go through this and suffer like that. Whatever I can do to make this a little easier for him, I'll do."

"Thank you, Finn," Kurt answers, earnest and quiet. "I think it might kill me to see him hurt like that."

Finn says nothing and they lapse into silence for a few minutes, watching Blaine lie on the bed and getting lost in their respective thoughts before Finn speaks. "I'm glad you've got him, Kurt. I mean, like this."

Kurt's brow knits in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"It makes me feel better that you're not going to be alone anymore. You never did well with _alone_. So, I'm glad you don't ever have to do that again," Finn explains, squeezing lightly at Kurt's shoulder.

He doesn't get a chance to offer thanks because he catches movement from the bed, just a twitch of Blaine's fingers, and he runs over to sit next to him and take his hand. "Blaine, baby, can you hear me?"

"Is he awake?" Finn asks, sounding confused and more than a little curious.

"I don't know. Maybe you should wait outside. I'm not sure how he'd react to having a human in the room when he wakes up. He won't be able to control himself very well and I don't want to take any chances." Kurt's voice is distracted and he brushes Blaine's cheek with the back of his hand. Finn nods and steps outside. Kurt can hear him make his way downstairs. Good. "Sweetheart, if you can hear me, open your eyes."

Slowly, Blaine's eyes flutter open, and Kurt's heart soars with relief, but it takes less than a second for the joy to shift to pain when Blaine jolts to a sitting position and his face crumples as he folds in on himself, darting panicked looks around the room. "How did I get here? What happened? I remember talking on the phone—why does my voice sound different?"

His thoughts are disjointed and clearly racing and Kurt reaches out to take his hand, but quick as a flash—something that seems to startle Blaine further—his hand flashes back to his lap. Kurt tries again slowly and Blaine lets him take his hand, his eyes widening when their palms slide together, no doubt noticing that they're now the same temperature. Actually, Kurt's skin is warmer than Blaine's because Blaine hasn't fed, still using up the last little bit of human blood in his system.

"Blaine, you were attacked, honey. Do you remember?" He keeps his voice soothing and slow. Blaine nods. "Okay, what do you remember after that? Think very hard."

"They knocked me out with a piece of wood or something and when I woke up, you were there, and you were crying and telling me…" He trails off and Kurt can almost hear the pieces click together in his mind. "Oh my God." Tears start sliding down Blaine's cheeks and Kurt aches to comfort him, but he's not sure that's what Blaine needs at the moment. "I'm…?"

Kurt nods and slides his hand over Blaine's. "Yes, sweetheart. I'm so sorry, but I just…I couldn't let you die, Blaine. I thought you were dead and I was afraid that I didn't give you enough or that you didn't drink it in time. I was so scared, sweetheart." There are tears falling from Kurt's eyes and he shakes his head in disbelief. "But you're okay. You're alive."

In an unexpected lurch, Blaine throws his arms around Kurt's neck, catching him off guard with how fast he moves, and squeezing tightly. Kurt returns the embrace, hugging Blaine for all he's worth and refusing to let go, not that Blaine tries to pull away.

"You're okay, sweetheart," Kurt promises, pressing a kiss to the side of Blaine's neck.

They fall into silence and Kurt waits. He knows what comes next. He doesn't have to wait long before Blaine pulls away, his eyes just a little manic with the thirst. "I feel strange…"

"You're thirsty," Kurt answers in a sigh.

Blaine seems to think about it for a second before his eyes go wide and his hand flashes to cover his mouth as he cries out in pain. "Kurt!" His hands are pressing against his mouth so hard the skin around them goes white and Kurt pulls his hands away, soothing over the skin with his thumbs. Blaine barely opens his mouth but it's enough to see the points of his canines trying to cut through his gums for the first time.

"Honey, I know it hurts right now, but you have to let it happen. The more you fight the long it will take for them to descend." He rests a hand on Blaine's cheek. "Just take a deep breath and close your eyes. Let the instinct take over."

Blaine breathes out a shaky breath and whimpers in pain. Kurt just murmurs quiet encouragement until Blaine's eyelids drag open, revealing the vivid honey-hazel of his irises. "So beautiful," Kurt breathes. He knew Blaine would be perfect but he's almost struck dumb by the way the transformation has affected his eyes.

"C-Can I see?" Blaine asks, his voice sheepish and tentative.

Kurt smiles and takes Blaine's hand, tugging him over toward the mirror on the back of the dresser. "Look."

Blaine's eyes go wide as he stares at himself in disbelief, raising a hand to touch his reflection. Kurt kisses the side of his head and crosses over to the mini-fridge in the corner, taking out a bag of blood and tearing it open. "Here, sweetheart, drink this." He offers it to Blaine who takes it with a shaky hand, eyeing it strangely.

He wrinkles his nose as the smell hits him and Kurt breathes out a quiet laugh. "It doesn't smell nearly as good as the real stuff, but at least this isn't hurting anyone."

"Won't this make me sick?" Blaine asks, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"I've got it covered, honey, just drink. You'll feel better," Kurt runs a hand through Blaine's curls as he slowly brings the not-really-a-straw on the bag up to his lips and takes a drink, his eyes widening as he realizes that he likes it.

That had been the weirdest part of Kurt's transformation as well. The realization that he actually enjoyed drinking human blood. Blaine's eyes squeeze closed and he starts drinking in earnest, draining the bag in seconds before looking up to Kurt, his eyes a little wild. "I-I'm still thirsty…"

Kurt does laugh at that. "Of course you're still thirsty. You're new." Kurt takes the empty bag from his hand and sets it on the dresser. "Now here comes the hard part. Finn wants to help you. Remember how I used to drink your blood so I wouldn't get sick?"

Blaine nods.

"Well, you're going to drink some of Finn's blood," he finishes and Blaine's eyes fly open wide, hunger clearly fighting with fear within him. "I won't let you hurt him. You can do this."

He sticks his head out the door and calls for Finn. Blaine is nervously tapping his foot as Kurt turns around and Finn follows him inside.

—

"Hey, kid," Finn starts, sounding a little awkward. Not that Blaine can blame him. He's not sure how _he'd_ react to walking into a room with a new vampire who until recently had been just a kid. "How ya feeling?"

"Better, sir. Thank you," Blaine starts, remembering belatedly that he's not supposed to call him sir anymore. "K-Kurt says you want to help…?"

Kurt nods between them and puts a hand on Blaine's back. "Blaine, you need to be very careful, okay. I have no doubt that you can handle this, but I just want you to focus on keeping yourself in check."

"I trust you, Blaine," Finn says confidently. Blaine wishes he had half the confidence that Finn and Kurt seem to have in him.

"Alright," Kurt begins instructing. "I want you to close your eyes again and take a deep breath."

Blaine follows directions and there's a flare of a dry flash burn in his throat as he smells what he's been craving since he opened his eyes. It's warm and thrumming through Finn's veins. Despite his calm exterior, he can tell that Finn is nervous. He can hear it in the quickened beat of his heart and his mouth waters as he fights against the urge to spring forward and just take.

He understands what Kurt meant when he explained the lack of control, how hard it is to defy instinct, but he's going to do it. He won't let Kurt down and he sure as hell won't hurt Finn. Not if he can help it.

"What do you smell?" Kurt asks, clearly using this as a teaching moment.

It aches to say the word. It aches because it's what he craves, what he knows he needs and he yearns for it. "Blood." He swallows against the sandpaper dryness of his throat.

"Finn, are you sure about this?" Kurt asks and he hears Finn hum out in the affirmative. "Okay. Blaine, come here." He opens his eyes and steps forward, so close to Finn that he can feel the heat rolling off his body in waves, can almost feel the thrumming of blood beneath the skin. Finn lifts his arm toward Blaine and Kurt nods for him to take it.

Blaine takes a deep breath and accepts Finn's wrist, taking it gingerly between his fingers and turning toward Kurt. "You—You won't let me hurt him, right?"

"Of course, sweetheart. Just take a little bit," Kurt encourages, putting a hand on Blaine's back in a way Blaine is sure is supposed to appear comforting, but it really feels like a restraint. He's glad for it.

He wets his lips and brings Finn's wrist to his lips, the smell of blood flowing beneath the skin too intoxicating to ignore anymore. Slowly, he opens his mouth and bites down hard enough to break the skin and a rush of euphoria washes over him as the blood touches his tongue. His instincts scream for him to drain every last drop of the warm, addicting blood from Finn's body and he forgets why he's supposed to be fighting against it when this blood is like cool water to a man stranded in the desert.

"Blaine," Kurt pushes at his shoulder. "Blaine, stop."

There's a slight edge of panic to Kurt's voice and his insistence becomes more forceful and he shoves hard at Blaine's shoulder. "Blaine, you're going to hurt him."

Oh. That's why he needs to stop. Finn took him in when he had nowhere to go. He's selflessly offering his blood so that Blaine doesn't have to go through the sickness. It's enough for Blaine to squeeze his eyes shut and, with a monumental effort, pull away.

He feels _alive_. The blood in his body is no longer flowing lazily through his veins, it's surging. He feels powerful and strong in a way he never has before and he thinks this must truly be what it feels like to feel invincible.

Kurt is ushering Finn to sit down and wrapping a bandage around his arm despite Finn's insistence that he's fine and that Kurt should be tending to Blaine right now. The door closes behind Finn and Kurt is at Blaine's side immediately, brushing back his curls. "How do you feel?"

Blaine surges forward and kisses Kurt, hard and claiming, in response, shoving him backward onto the bed and climbing over top of him to kiss him deeper. Kurt just laughs and wraps his arms around Blaine's shoulders, letting Blaine take charge for a moment before pulling away and sighing. "We can't stay here now, you know that right? Your story was on the news tonight. Luckily, no one saw your face or, even more miraculously, my car, but it won't be long before people start to get curious."

He rolls off Kurt and stretches out on the bed, contemplating what it means to never be able to go home again, not that he ever really had a home to begin with. "Then we'll leave tonight."

Kurt pulls him tightly against his side and kisses the top of his head. "I was so scared, Blaine. I thought I lost you. I thought I was too late."

"Shh, sweetheart," Blaine turns his head and presses a kiss to Kurt's chest through the fabric of his shirt. "I'm okay."

"You didn't choose this," Kurt argues. "I took the choice away from you."

Blaine sits up and pulls Kurt with him. "Kurt, you saved my life," he says earnestly before smiling and poking Kurt's nose with the tip of his finger. "You are two for two on saving Andersons, Kurt Hummel. You should get some kind of medal."

Kurt throws his head back and laughs once, a warm, happy sound, and kisses Blaine full on the lips. "I did. Well, they gave it to my dad, but…" He laughs again and wraps his arms around Blaine's neck. "I love you, Blaine. I was stupid to think that I could ever live without you, that I'd be able to handle it if you stayed human and died of old age, because I'm pretty sure that I need you by my side forever."

"That's where I'll be," Blaine answers, his voice quiet and sure. "Forever."

—

They keep true to their plan to leave that night.

"I feel like I just got you back and you're leaving again," Finn says, hugging Kurt tight to his chest.

Kurt sniffles and holds on. It's a strangely intimate moment of Kurt taking comfort from his big brother in a way that makes him seem almost as young as he appears. "I'll come back. We'll visit for Christmas when everything dies down a little. You have my number."

Blaine kind of hates that he's the reason they have to leave so soon, but he refrains from voicing it since the first time he said it, Kurt nearly bit his head off for trying to take any sort of blame.

"Blaine, I am so glad my brother found you. You both deserve each other, so don't ever let go, alright?" There's warmth and honest concern in Finn's voice and Blaine nods.

"I'll follow him wherever he goes, Finn. He can't get rid of me now." Kurt smacks him playfully on the shoulder and Finn holds out his hand for Blaine to take. "You take care of yourself and Kurt, kid, got that?"

An unfamiliar sense of family settles over Blaine and he smiles as he shakes Finn's hand and voices his understanding and his goodbye. With a final hug and goodbye, Blaine follows Kurt out to the car and climbs in. He hears the barely perceptible sound of Kurt sniffling once. He reaches across the console and takes Kurt's hand. "Sad to be leaving?"

"I'm not sure," Kurt answers, his voice thoughtful and honest. "There's just this sense of closure that I never had before. I feel like…I'm not sure what I feel like, but I'm not sad anymore. These last couple of months, I've gotten everything I could have ever wanted, plus a thousand things I never even thought to ask for. I just feel…_happy_."

Blaine is smiling as he lifts the back of Kurt's hand to his lips and presses a kiss there. "I hope so. I want you to be." Kurt returns his smile and Blaine continues. "You deserve to be happy, sweetheart."

They fall into silence, the only sound is their quiet humming along with the radio as they drive down the quiet, two lane country road on the outskirts of town and Blaine realizes where they are.

"Baby, turn in here," he instructs, pointing toward the driveway into Lima Memorial Cemetery. Kurt seems to understand because the car pulls to a stop on the driveway next to George Anderson's headstone.

It should be too dark to see by this time of night, but everything is as clear and vivid as brightest day. The only difference is the grayish purple cast everything seems to be bathed in. It's beautiful, Blaine thinks, and he finds himself looking around at all the things he can see and hear that he'd never experienced before. It's all new and completely captivating.

He reaches down to take Kurt's hand and they fall into step beside each other until they stop at the headstone and Kurt laughs out a quiet breath of a sound as he looks down at the stone. "God, George, I can't imagine what you think of all this." He laughs again and squeezes Blaine's hand. "But I'm going to take care of him. He's still going to college and he's going to follow his dream. He's stronger than you were, George, but I'm sure you knew that already. He stood up for himself. I know how much you always wanted to do that but never did. He's going to do all of the things you never got a chance to do and I'm so proud of him."

There are tears in Kurt's voice now and Blaine winds an arm around his waist and pulls him close. He's sure whatever Kurt is saying is something he's wanted to say for awhile, so he lets him go.

"I miss you," Kurt continues, sniffling once. "I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to see you before you died. I should have. It shouldn't have been so long between visits, but I guess at least this time, it really _was_ your time to go. You got to have a family just like you always talked about and you got to get old and gray with Marianne and that's everything I ever wanted for you. I know you were sad for me even when you said you weren't. I could tell. You were sad because you got to have the house and the family and I didn't.

"When we were kids, you always said that one day, we'd have the houses with the white picket fences right next door to each other, but sometimes things don't turn out like you expect them to. Remember how I used to tell you that it felt like I was looking for something? Well, I found him. And it's because of you. Everything happens for a reason. There's a reason you lived and I got turned and I know we were both trying to figure out what the reason was, and I'm just sorry you aren't around to see that I'm finally happy. I am. I am well and truly happy now. I have Blaine and Finn—"

He breaks off with a watery laugh before continuing.

"Oh, and get this, Finn actually helped Blaine with his transformation. You should have seen his face when he saw me here a couple weeks ago. He told me you used to go over and stay with him after Rachel died. He said it meant a lot to him. You never told me that you did that, but I should have guessed that you would. I just—God, I wish you were here, George. I want to tell you how happy I am and how in love I am—"

Blaine leans to the side and kisses Kurt on the neck and rests his head against his shoulder. "I'm sure he hears you, Kurt. Just keep talking." He kisses Kurt again.

Kurt takes a deep breath. "I really hope Blaine's right and that you _can_ hear me…wherever you are…because I just really miss you. I'm so glad that I saved you, George, because it wasn't your time then. You needed the family and the house and the kids. You and I both know that I was never going to have that—it was a different time then and people like me weren't allowed to want things like that for ourselves—but things are different now.

"I'm taking Blaine to New York with me. We could get married there if we wanted to. And I really want to." He looks toward Blaine and smiles before turning back toward the stone. "We both got all the things we wanted, George, it just took me a little longer, but what else is new. I'm happy and I have everything I could have ever wanted, and it's because of you. I miss you every day and I just wish I'd gotten to say goodbye and to say thank you." He pauses as he leans down and brushes his hand across the lettering of the stone and sighs, straightening up and wiping at his eyes. "Rest well, George. You gave me more than you'll ever know and there's no way I could ever repay you."

Blaine wraps Kurt up in a hug and feels Kurt bury his face in the side of his neck and sniffle.

"Are you alright, baby?" he asks, petting Kurt's back. Kurt nods against his shoulder.

"Y-Yeah. I just. I loved him, Blaine. He was my best friend…"

Blaine tightens his arms around his boyfriend's waist and just holds him. "I know, sweetie."

Kurt straightens up and turns himself around in Blaine's arms so that Blaine can hook his chin over his shoulder. "Was there anything you wanted to say," he asks, petting at Blaine's arms around his waist.

"I think you pretty much covered it," Blaine says quietly. He clears his throat. "I miss you, grandpa. The house just wasn't the same without you there. I hope, wherever you are, you're happy. Because I'm happy and I'm safe now. I know you worried after what happened, but…" he trails off, unsure how exactly to finish.

A warm summer breeze rustles the leaves on the trees and wraps around them like an embrace as they stand at the foot of the grave. "I'll come visit you soon and I'll drag Kurt with me, I promise," Blaine says. "We're coming back to visit Finn around Christmas, I think. I love you, grandpa and I miss you so much."

He leans down and pats the top of the headstone, brushing away some loose grass from its face before standing and nodding toward Kurt. "Ready, honey?"

"Yeah," Kurt answers slowly, reluctant to leave his friend. "Bye, George." His voice is quiet and he looks down toward his feet as they turn to leave Lima behind.

—

There's a motel in the middle of Pennsylvania they stop at once Kurt is too tired to drive. Though he hasn't mentioned it, Blaine's thirst is starting to overpower most of his other thoughts. He opts to wait in the car when Kurt goes in to get their room key, it's warm outside and the woman behind the desk has a fan blowing behind her, sending the scent of her blood drifting out through the open door and into the car. Blaine rolls up the window and holds his breath as best he can, but it's enough to have him white knuckling the armrest.

Inside the room, Blaine lets himself gasp out a breath and fall face down on the bed. "God, is it always this bad?"

Kurt laughs once and comes to sit next to him, carding a hand through his loose curls, still ungelled from being washed earlier. "No, honey. It's not always this bad. You're just new. It gets easier over time. You're doing amazingly. Better than I expected, actually."

"I'm just so thirsty," Blaine whines and his stomach growls. "Why am I hungry? Do vampires get hungry?"

"Blaine, you are ridiculous," Kurt laughs, leaning down to kiss him on the lips. "You are a vampire. Your stomach just growled because you are hungry. And you just asked if a vampire can get hungry. Why don't you try and figure out the answer to your little brain teaser?"

"I think I want some potato chips," Blaine says by way of an answer and Kurt laughs again. Blaine smiles because it's the most he's heard Kurt laugh since they met. It's untroubled and free and Blaine loves it. He plans to do anything to keep Kurt this happy. "I think there's a vending machine down at the end of the balcony."

He takes Kurt's hand and leads him out the door and along the black metal railing overlooking the courtyard pool.

Shouting from the room they're passing makes Kurt stop, tugging on Blaine's hand. "Wait…"

The sound of a slap resounds through the inside of the room and Blaine tenses by Kurt's side, fighting the anger swelling up in him. There's more shouting and the sound of a woman crying. Kurt is frozen beside him, but instead of angry, he looks deep in thought and a small, sly smile crosses his face. "Come on, let's go get your chips and go back to the room. I have an idea."

—

They look around on their way back to the room and notice that there are no cameras trained on their particular row of rooms and Kurt casually pauses outside the maid's closet and twists the handle until it breaks, the door able to be easily pushed open and he nods to Blaine.

"Remember, behind the door where he can't see you," Kurt reminds and Blaine nods again.

Blaine pauses outside the couples' room and knocks on the door lightly, standing with his back against the side of the building so the man won't see him when the door opens. Luckily, the man is a little drunk when he pulls the door open and steps outside. Blaine brings a fist down hard right on the crown of his head and the man collapses, unconscious to the ground, his female companion asleep and none the wiser in a chair in the corner.

He drags the man to the closet where Kurt is holding out a blood bag. "Here, drink this first. I already had one."

Kurt's eyes are shining the same vivid ice blue that Blaine remembers from the times he let Kurt feed off of him and his canines are the razor sharp vampire teeth. Blaine nods and sucks down the blood bag like he was starving for it—even if it tastes like a watered down version of what he really needs, what he smells coming from beside him.

"I think he cut his hand on the way down," Blaine points out and Kurt's eyes flash with an epiphany.

"Blaine, that's it!" he all but shouts, lifting the man's arm up and exposing the deep gash in his palm before lifting it to his mouth and taking a drink. "Here." He offers it to Blaine. "Just drink a little."

Having drank so much today, Blaine's feeling a little more sated so it's easier than before to leave the man alive and well on the floor.

"We didn't even have to bite him. No one will suspect that this was vampires. They'll think the dumbass just got drunk, stumbled into a maid's closet, and somehow cut his hand." Kurt's eyes are bright. "And do you know how many people there are just like this guy in New York?" Kurt laughs.

Blaine smiles widely. "We never have to get the sickness."

Kurt hops over the man and throws his arms around Blaine, kissing him, and Blaine chases the intoxicating flavors of Kurt and the blood on his lips as he deepens the kiss. "Let's go to bed, Kurt. I really, really want you right now."

The beaming smile that lights up Kurt's face is breathtaking and he can't help but feel a little giddy as he sweeps Kurt off his feet and runs back toward their room, Kurt giggling the entire way.

In no time, Blaine is kicking the door closed, Kurt's legs wrapped around his waist as he kisses him urgent and deep, and it's all Blaine can do to carry him over to the bed and undress him, because the idea of just ravaging him right there against the door is almost too tempting to pass up.

Kurt hits the mattress with an _oof_ and a quiet, playful laugh as he's reaching forward to tug Blaine onto him by the front of his shirt. "You're so perfect, Blaine. I love you so much," he says in a breath, stroking down Blaine's cheek and smiling widely. "I can't believe you're mine."

"Forever," Blaine promises, leaning down and kissing him. Because they have that now. They have forever. "I'm yours forever, sweetheart."

There's emotion deep in Kurt's eyes and he's shaking his head. "Kiss me. Just—Just kiss me, please."

Who is Blaine to deny such a request? He surges forward and kisses him, more needful and urgent than ever and he's not sure when exactly they managed to get their clothes off while kissing, but the next thing he realizes is that he and Kurt are both naked on the bed as they kiss, clothes strewn wildly across the floor.

Hands are everywhere, caressing, squeezing, clawing and Blaine gets lost in it all, lost in being able to move like this with Kurt. There's no fear or hesitance anywhere to be found on Kurt's features and Kurt looks almost wild in a way Blaine never expected to see, but now that he has seen Kurt so out of control, he finds himself addicted to it.

He kisses him all over just to hear what sounds he makes, touches him all over for the same reason, and soon Kurt is arching into the touch. "P-Please, Blaine. I need—"

"Shh, baby, I know." He does know. Because he needs it too. Kurt's pushing him onto his back then and stretching out over top of him with a quiet growl that makes heat pool low in his stomach. Kurt's hands slide down his stomach and over his thighs before settling between his legs. Blaine's breath hitches as he watches the muscles in Kurt's arms shift and flex as he fingers him. He takes in the flawless expanse of smooth, pale skin and hears himself breathe, "God, Kurt, you're so beautiful."

Kurt smiles widely, his eyes dark in a way that sends a shiver down Blaine's spine. He feels soft kisses being pressed to the insides of his thighs. "Ready, baby?"

Blaine nods and reaches down for Kurt. "Please."

He's not sure what he's pleading for, but Kurt smiles as he slicks himself up and stretches over Blaine to kiss him, pressing inside as he kisses him and Blaine whines against his lips as his arms come to wrap tightly around Kurt's shoulders. "Move, Kurt," Blaine whines, because God, it's too much. It sparks a current through his entire body that feels like he might explode if Kurt doesn't start moving soon.

"Is—" Blaine swallows thickly and tries to form a thought. "Is this what it feels like all the time?"

Kurt kisses him again softly. "I've only been with you, sweetheart, but yes. It's amazing."

His body feels electric as Kurt sets a steady rhythm, hand roaming all over the stretched out expanse of Blaine's body, thumbing over his nipples and dragging blunt nails over the sensitive skin stretched across his ribs until Blaine is arching and moaning into the touch. It's so much, but not enough. "Kurt, touch me, please," he whines with abandon.

"I am touching you," Kurt teases, amusement and adoration dancing in his eyes and God, Blaine's sure he's never felt more loved than he does in this moment. All he can do is whimper out a groan that makes Kurt laugh again and kiss him. "I know what you want, baby."

Blaine doesn't get a chance to beg again before Kurt's hand is wrapping around his cock and stroking him with the same steady rhythm of his hips. Kurt whines high in his throat as Blaine starts rocking back to meet his thrusts.

"Are you close, babe?" Blaine manages to ask, fingers tangled in the back of Kurt's hair as he nods. Kurt's hand quickens as he starts to snap his hips forward more erratically. "Come on, Kurt. Let go for me, baby."

Kurt whines loudly and that's it. He pitches forward and Blaine can feel him pulsing out his release deep inside and it's enough to set him off, coming hard over Kurt's fist until he's panting and batting at Kurt's hand to move away. Kurt just kisses him, murmuring soft endearments into his flushed skin until Blaine feels like he could fly.

They come down together, kissing and touching softly until Kurt sighs contentedly and snuggles against Blaine's side. "This is how I want it to be forever." He kisses him again. "Just us."

"We're in this together now, baby," Blaine says. There's nothing but warm adoration in his voice. Kurt lights up at the words, so Blaine presses a kiss to the top of his hair.

"Are you sure that you're okay?" Kurt asks, concern creeping into his voice. Blaine shakes his head because he can't have Kurt worrying. Not now. Not when everything is perfect like this.

He leans down and kisses Kurt full on the lips to silence his worry. "I get to spend eternity with the most amazing person I've ever met in my life. Why would I not be okay?"

Something thoughtful and warm touches Kurt's eyes and he whispers, "Eternity?" And then a smile. "I think I like the sound of that."

Blaine kisses him again just because he can. "Me too, sweetheart. Me too."

* * *

**A/N: Reviews are always appreciated! :) This is open to a sequel should I ever get the chance and if anyone actually wants something like that. Again, thank you all so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the story! I'd love to hear what you think or what you'd like to see. I'm open to writing one-shots within the verse as well. :)**


	9. Bonus: Part Three Alternate Storyline

A/N: This is just a little extra piece that I totally forgot about this until I was putting together the pdf, so I thought I'd go ahead and post it. While writing, I had an epiphany in which I came up with an amazing idea for the story. It takes things in a very different direction and fits amazingly with the scene I was trying to create with the story. The problem? The new storyline is in direct contrast to the one already in place, so since I couldn't bring myself to just scrap the idea, I'm going to post it and let you all choose which one you'd like to accept as canon.

**tl;dr: Because I'm an idiot who doesn't think of decent storylines until it's too late, you guys get a choose your own adventure story. :) This is essentially an exercise in "How do you want Finn to first appear in the story?"**

* * *

**This alternate storyline starts mid-chapter three. Right after this line: **

_He treats the stone with such reverence that Blaine thinks for just a second that it seems as though it's someone Kurt genuinely loved and grieved the loss of. He does the same for Burt and Carole's stones, and __he's just straightening back up from brushing grass from the face of Burt's stone when Blaine hears a voice call out toward Kurt._

**Switch the above line to: **

_He treats the stone with such reverence that Blaine thinks for just a second that it seems as though it's someone Kurt genuinely loved and grieved the loss of. He does the same for Burt and Carole's stones and Blaine can see Kurt's shoulders rise and fall with a sigh before he turns back toward the car._

**And add a scene break...Okay. New storyline...**

* * *

**Alternate Storyline**

* * *

Blaine is shrugging into a t-shirt on his way downstairs when his phone rings on the coffee table, so he watches as Kurt helpfully leans over and takes the phone. His brow furrows as he reads the caller ID, but he says nothing, only climbs off the couch with a thoughtful expression and hands Blaine the phone.

He checks the caller ID for himself. "Oh. Damn, I guess I forgot to call and tell Mr. Hudson I wasn't going to be able to help him with his yard today?"

"Mr. Hudson?" Kurt asks, his expression carefully guarded.

"Yeah. He's a friend of my grandpa's," Blaine explains quickly before answering the phone. "Hello, Mr. Hudson. I'm sorry…"

He watches Kurt's face carefully, beginning to feel unsurprised by Kurt's inexplicable reactions. He apologizes again for forgetting to call but Mr. Hudson is dismissive and kind. "It's okay, Blaine. I'm sorry your college trip fell through."

"It's okay," Blaine replies. "I can come over now though. I'd be glad to, actually."

Kurt looks up in slight alarm and his eyes are wide. Okay, that one gets Blaine's attention. What is going on with Kurt today? Jesus.

He doesn't have much chance to think about it before Mr. Hudson is answering with, "Are you sure? I don't want to keep you from what you're doing…"

Blaine shakes his head even though the man can't see him. "It's no trouble at all. If it's alright though, I'd like to bring my boyfriend. He could help." Blaine smiles toward Kurt and Kurt returns it even if it looks just a little forced and nervous.

"Of course that's alright," Mr. Hudson agrees amiably. "It's about time you settled down. What are you 30 now?"

Blaine laughs quietly and rolls his eyes. Kurt just watches, a small but nervous smile on his lips. "Yeah, something like that, sir. Eighteen. Thirty. Same thing."

Mr. Hudson laughs. "What's this young man's name?"

Blaine laughs but Kurt visibly stiffens at the question and Blaine wonders how he even heard any of it. He figures Kurt will snap out of it soon enough so he continues with, "Kurt, sir. Kurt Hummel."

There is dead silence on the other end of the phone and Kurt starts to tap his foot on the floor. Mr. Hudson pulls in sharp breath but Kurt speaks before the man on the phone does.

"Blaine, honey, can I see the phone for a second please?" he asks, there's a tight smile on his face that looks very much like it's supposed to appear genuine.

"S-Sure…" Blaine agrees, completely confused. "Mr. Hudson…my boyfriend wants to speak to you for a second, is that okay?"

The man's voice is shocky and quiet when he answers with, "Yeah."

Kurt smiles as he takes the phone from Blaine's hand, darting a kiss to his lips before taking the phone outside. Blaine is too confused to even begin to know how to process what's going on. Kurt comes back inside before he gets a chance to think any further than "What in the hell was that?"

He hands the phone back to Blaine with an untroubled smile, as though nothing about his behavior is odd at all. "Ready to go, sweetheart?"

Kurt's fingers tap restlessly against his lap all the way to Mr. Hudson's house. Anxiety is rolling off him in waves contrasting with the calm exterior he's putting up. Blaine fights the urge to slam on the brakes and demand Kurt tell him just what in the holy hell is going on, because he's secretly afraid that it's just him reading too much into something that isn't there.

They pull into the small driveway of Mr. Hudson's house. The house is built in the same old style as Blaine's except this house is a bit nicer, due in small part to Blaine's efforts the previous summer when he helped repaint the house and put new shutters on. Kurt's eyes seem distant and glued to the front of the house; there's a small, affectionate smile on his face.

"Are you okay, Kurt?" Blaine can't help asking. Kurt slowly turns and nods.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he answers easily and Blaine believes him. There's something peaceful and warm about Kurt's expression and he can't begrudge anything that makes Kurt look so happy.

Blaine notices Mr. Hudson standing in the front window, watching the car in his driveway with an expression that looks equal parts dumbstruck and disbelieving. The curtain falls back into place as the face in the window disappears and Mr. Hudson opens the screen door and takes a tentative step out onto the porch.

His white hair is sticking up in odd places as though he's been dragging his fingers through it and the lines on his face seem deeper than usual, his typically friendly and warm face looking serious and concerned. Blaine wonders if Kurt realizes that he's staring, because Kurt's wide eyes haven't left Mr. Hudson's face since he stepped out the door.

"I—I'm going to go introduce myself," Kurt says, his voice sounding nervous, quiet, and emotional for reasons Blaine's sure he still doesn't understand. "Why don't you go ahead and get started," he suggests. Blaine nods and squeezes Kurt's hand across the console as he climbs out of the car.

Blaine goes to the back of the house to take the lawn mower out of the shed and when he comes back, Kurt and Mr. Hudson are gone, probably gone inside. Maybe the man found something for Kurt to do inside. He remembers hearing him say something about the kitchen sink leaking, but Kurt doesn't quite seem the type to know anything about fixing sinks. Blaine laughs to himself at the thought.

By the time Blaine finishes mowing the front yard, neither has reappeared from the house. According to Blaine's watch, it's been almost an entire hour. Whatever they're doing inside shouldn't take this long. He sort of hopes that they might just be talking. Ever since Mr. Hudson lost his wife Rachel, he doesn't get out as much.

Kurt is always easy to talk to, so he thinks it might do him a fair bit of good to be able to talk to someone. Mr. Hudson has never been very verbose, but Blaine thinks it must be difficult to not have anyone to talk to, to live alone. He supposes that's what they bonded over originally. Blaine has often felt as though he's living alone, nothing in the big house except himself and his thoughts. It's maddening sometimes.

He walks up the steps quietly and hears voices from the living room. It's a little strange, Blaine thinks, and his brow furrows. While he'd hoped they'd be talking, he never quite expected for them to sound quite so familiar with each other.

It's more like they're long lost friends than new acquaintances. Especially considering the age gap between them. It's not a teenager speaking to an adult, they're peers. Blaine feels just a little guilty, but he sits down in one of the rocking chairs on the porch, just out of view, and listens.

Most of the conversation is too quiet for him to pick up on, but he manages to catch the tail end of whatever they're talking about.

He hears Mr. Hudson's voice, quiet and awestruck. "I won't say anything, Kurt, I swear. I just—This is _unbelievable._ You're…" He trails off as though he's unable to continue.

"Yes," Kurt's voice is soft and warm. "I am. And I'm so sorry that I didn't tell you, Finn, but I couldn't risk it."

Finn? Since when were they on a first name basis? Again, something tugs at his consciousness at the easy familiarity they share. There's something he's missing. And he really, really wants to figure out what it is. He's pulled from his racing thoughts by Mr. Hudson—_Finn_ apparently—continuing.

"But you told _him_, right?" It doesn't sound like an accusation. It's a hopeful question asking for assurance.

Are they talking about him? Is there something Kurt told him that explains all of this? The next words out of Kurt's mouth cast doubt on the idea that they were talking about him at all.

"Yeah," Kurt continues in a serious voice," I did." He hears Kurt take a deep breath. "I had to, didn't I? I couldn't let him live with that guilt."

There's silence for a beat before Mr. Hudson says, "We missed you so much, Kurt. No matter what happened then, I'm glad you're here now."

"Me too." Kurt's voice is thick with emotion before he clears his throat and Blaine hears the sound of Kurt's hand slapping against his thighs sharply. "Right. We should go outside. It sounds like Blaine's done with the yard."

Blaine starts at the words and silently jumps up and darts off the porch toward where the lawnmower is sitting in the middle of the yard. He quickly pushes it back to the shed and when he comes back, Mr. Hudson and Kurt are standing on the porch. Kurt smiles brightly at Blaine. "All done, sweetheart?"

"Yeah," Blaine returns, trying his best not to sound as skeptical and suspicious as he feels.

"Alright then," Kurt replies, still bright and friendly. "It was very nice to meet you, sir," he says, extending a hand toward the man next to him.

"You too," Mr. Hudson answers. "Don't be a stranger. Come back for dinner? We can talk some more."

Kurt nods and smiles. "Sure."

They're polite and friendly as they say their goodbyes like new acquaintances, but Blaine has a deep rooted suspicion he's being tricked.

* * *

**A/N: I'm not sure what this is, but I thought you guys might like to have it. Either way, pick whichever one you like best as canon. :)**


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